فصل 52

I Got the Horse Right Here. His Name Is Stanley

THOR WAS STILL SNORING like a defective wood chipper when we were ready to leave the next morning. That’s really saying something, since I had slept forever. Jack the sword had not been kidding about the effect of killing the giantess. As soon as I’d reclaimed the sword after Sam fell asleep, I had passed out instantly.

At least I hadn’t lost a full twenty-four hours this time. With Fenris Wolf appearing in only two more days, I couldn’t afford any more long naps. I wondered if maybe, just maybe, I was growing more resilient as I became bonded to the sword. I hoped so, but I still felt like I’d been flattened under a rolling pin all night.

We packed up our gear and ate a cold breakfast of MORNING, MAGGOT! energy bars from Blitz’s supply bags (yum). Then Hearthstone nestled the severed heads of the two still-dead goats in Thor’s arms like teddy bears. Never let it be said that elves don’t have a sense of humor.

I looked down at the drool turning to ice in Thor’s beard. “And to think that the defense of Nine Worlds rests on this god.”

“Let’s get going,” Blitzen muttered. “I don’t want to be around when he wakes up with Otis and Marvin.”

The dead giantess proved helpful. We climbed over her to cross the icy swamp. Then we discovered that we could scale her left foot to reach the first ledge in the side of the cliff.

Once we got that far, I stared up at the remaining five hundred meters of sheer icy rock. “Awesome. Now the real fun begins.”

“Wish I could still fly,” Sam murmured.

I imagined she could fly, with a little shape-shifting, but after our conversation last night, I decided against mentioning that.

Blitz handed his pack to Hearthstone, then wriggled his stubby fingers. “Don’t worry, kids. You’re climbing with a dwarf today.”

I frowned. “You’re a mountaineer now as well as a master of fashion?”

“I told you, kid, dwarves were formed from maggots that burrowed through Ymir’s flesh.”

“And you seem strangely proud of it.”

“Rock to us is like…well, not rock.” He punched the side of the cliff. Rather than breaking his fist, he left an indentation just the right size for a handhold. “I’m not saying it’ll be fast or easy. It takes me a lot of effort to shape rock. But we can do it.”

I glanced at Sam. “Did you know dwarves could punch through stone?”

“Nope. That’s new to me.”

Hearthstone signed, Use the magic rope? Rather not fall to death.

I shuddered. I couldn’t think about the rope Andskoti without thinking about the Wolf, and I didn’t like thinking about the Wolf. “We need that rope to bind Fenris, right? I don’t want to do anything that might weaken it.”

“Don’t worry, kid.” Blitz brought out the silken cord. “This rope can’t be weakened. And Hearthstone’s right. We might as well tie it to one another for safety.”

“That way if we fall,” Sam said, “we’ll fall together.”

“Sold,” I said, trying to tamp down my anxiety. “I love dying with friends.”

We got hitched (so to speak) and followed our intrepid rock-shaping, fashion-conscious guide up the side of Mount You-Gotta-Be-Kidding-Me.

I’d heard homeless military vets describe war as ninety-five percent boredom and five percent terror. Climbing the cliff was more like five percent terror and ninety-five percent excruciating pain. My arms shook. My legs wobbled. Every time I looked down I wanted to cry or throw up.

Despite the handholds and footholds Blitzen made, the wind almost knocked me off several times. There was nothing I could do except keep going.

I knew for certain that my Valhalla-enhanced strength was the only thing keeping me alive. Magnus 1.0 would have fallen to his death. I didn’t understand how Hearthstone could manage, bringing up the end of the rope, but he did. And Sam…demigod or not, she didn’t have the advantage of being an einherji. Yet she didn’t complain, didn’t waver, didn’t slip—which was good, since she was climbing right above me.

Finally, as the sky began to darken, we reached the top. Down in the canyon we’d come from, the body of the giantess was so small it looked like a normal-sized body. The river glittered in the gloom. If Thor’s camp was still there, I saw no sign of it.

In the other direction, Jotunheim spread out like an electron microscope landscape—impossibly jagged peaks, crystalline cliffs, ravines filled with ovoid clouds like floating bacteria.

The good news: I could see the giant’s fortress. Across a mile-wide chasm, windows glowed red in the side of a mountain. Towers rose from the summit as if they’d been shaped from the rock dwarven-style rather than built.

The bad news: did I mention the mile-wide chasm? The cliff top where we were standing was no more than a narrow plateau. The drop on the other side was just as precipitous as the one we’d climbed.

Considering it had taken us all day to get this far, I figured we’d reach the castle in another six months, easy. Unfortunately, it was Monday evening and the Wolf’s island was supposed to rise on Wednesday.

“Let’s camp here tonight,” Blitzen said. “Maybe in the morning we’ll see a better way across.”

Despite our time crunch, nobody argued. We were all so tired we collapsed.

As is so often the case, in the fresh light of morning our situation looked much worse.

There were no stairs, no convenient zip lines, no direct commuter flights to Geirrod’s fortress. I was about to risk an ax in the face by suggesting that Sam shape-shift—maybe change into a giant sugar glider and carry us across—when Hearthstone signed: Have an idea.

He pulled out a runestone:

“M,” I said.

He shook his head then spelled out the name: E-H-W-A-Z.

“Right,” I said. “Because calling it M would be too easy.”

Sam plucked the stone from Hearth’s palm. “I know this one. It symbolizes a horse, right? The shape is like a saddle.”

I squinted at the rune. The wind was so cold and harsh that I had a hard time thinking imaginatively, but the symbol still looked like an M to me. “How does this help us?”

Hearthstone signed: Means horse, transportation. Maybe a way to go—he pointed to the castle.

Blitzen tugged his beard. “Sounds like powerful magic. Have you tried it before?”

Hearthstone shook his head. Don’t worry. I can do it.

“I know you can,” said Blitz. “But you’ve already taxed yourself to the limit several times.”

Be fine, Hearth insisted.

“I don’t see that we have much choice,” I said, “since we don’t have anyone who can grow wings.”

“I will push you off this mountain,” Sam warned.

“All right,” Blitzen decided, “let’s try it. I mean the rune, not pushing Magnus off the mountain. Maybe Hearth can summon a helicopter.”

“Geirrod would hear a helicopter,” I said. “And probably throw rocks at us. And kill us.”

“Well, then,” Blitzen said, “perhaps a stealth helicopter. Hearthstone, do your stuff!”

Sam returned the stone. Hearth passed his hand over it, moving his lips as if imagining how the syllables might sound.

The runestone burst into dust. Hearthstone stared at the white powder trickling through his fingers.

“I’m guessing it wasn’t supposed to do that?” I asked.

“Guys.” Sam’s voice was so small it was almost lost in the wind.

She pointed up, where a gray shape was hurtling out of the clouds. It moved so fast and blended with the sky so well, I didn’t realize what the creature was until it was almost on top of us—a stallion twice the size of a normal horse, his coat rippling like liquid steel, his white mane billowing, his eyes glittering black.

The stallion had no wings, but he galloped through the air as easily as if he were running down a gentle slope. Only when he landed next to us did I notice he had four, five, six…eight legs—a pair in each place where a normal horse would have one, kind of like dual wheels on a pickup truck.

I turned to Hearthstone. “Dude, when you summon a horse, you don’t mess around.”

Hearthstone grinned. Then his eyes rolled up in his head and he fell forward. I managed to catch him and ease him to the ground while Blitzen and Sam moved warily around the stallion.

“It—it c-can’t be,” Blitzen stammered.

“One of Sleipnir’s offspring?” Sam wondered. “Gods, what a magnificent animal.”

The horse nuzzled her hand, clearly pleased with the compliment.

I moved toward him, fascinated by his intelligent eyes and his regal stance. The stallion gave the word horsepower a new meaning. He radiated strength.

“Is somebody going to introduce me?” I asked.

Sam shook herself out of her reverie. “I…I don’t know who he is. He looks like Sleipnir, Odin’s steed, but this can’t be him. Only Odin can summon him. I’m guessing this is one of Sleipnir’s sons.”

“Well, he’s amazing.” I extended my hand. The horse brushed his lips against my fingers. “He’s friendly. And he’s definitely big enough to carry us all across the chasm. Would you be okay with that, buddy?”

The horse nickered, like, Uh, duh, that’s why I’m here.

“The eight legs are”—I was about to say weird but changed my mind—“awesome. How did that happen?”

Blitzen glanced at Sam. “Sleipnir was one of Loki’s children. They tend to come out…interesting.”

I smiled. “So this horse is your nephew, Sam?”

She glared at me. “Let’s not go there.”

“How did your dad father a horse?”

Blitzen coughed. “Actually, Loki was Sleipnir’s mother.”

“What—?”

“Let’s definitely not go there,” Sam warned.

I filed that away for later research. “Okay, Mr. Horse, since we don’t know your name, I’m going to call you Stanley, because you look like a Stanley. That okay with you?”

The horse seemed to shrug, which was good enough for me.

We draped Hearthstone over Stanley’s extra-long back like a sack of elfish potatoes. The rest of us climbed on.

“We’re going to that castle over there, Stanley,” I told the stallion. “Looking for a quiet entrance. That work for you?”

The horse whinnied. I was pretty sure he was warning me to hold on.

I wondered what exactly I should hold on to, since there were no reins and no saddle. Then the stallion pawed the rocks with his front four hooves, leaped off the side of the cliff, and plummeted straight down.

And we all died.