The Day the World Went Loki (12 page)

“A load of trouble for you,” Greg puffed belligerently from the floor.

“Give that big mouth a rest, kid,” Loki retorted. “I’m talking to the ladies.”

Frostily ignoring him, Aunt Vivien carried on chanting. Mum turned around, planting her ogrish bulk directly in front of him. Pointing at the ruined door, she said crossly, “I hope you plan on replacing that.”

“First things first,” said Loki with a confident smirk. Turning to Aunt Vivien, he snapped, “Cut that out, Viv, before you do yourself an injury.”

Aunt Vivien raised her voice, straining to pronounce the harsh syllables. The brothers sensed that her chant was building to a crescendo.

Greg staggered to his feet, pulling Lewis up with him. “Face it, Loki, you’re done!” he challenged.

Loki eyed him with cool contempt. “Not till the fat lady’s finished her song,” he retorted, “and that’s not happening.” Turning to the troll, he pointed a finger at Aunt Vivien. “Silence that overweight canary,” he
ordered, and stepped aside.

The troll bulled its way into the kitchen. Shouldering Mum out of its path, it swept Aunt Vivien off her feet. Her squawk of indignation was stifled by a scaly palm the size of a dinner plate clamping itself over her mouth.

Greg and Lewis seized the troll’s arms in an effort to free her, only to find themselves hauled off the floor, their legs dangling. Lewis’ gaze fell upon the hourglass standing on the counter where the egg-timer used to be. Most of the sand was in the top half and there was no sign of movement. Time was still frozen. Aunt Vivien’s eyes bulged urgently, sending out a mute appeal to the boys. Swinging like a pendulum, Greg aimed a kick between the troll’s squat legs. He might as well have been kicking a brick wall.

Loki swaggered over to the stove and eyed the magical brew, which was bubbling furiously in its pot. “I think I’d better pour this away before it goes off,” he drawled. He spotted the spellbook lying on the counter and seized it with a grin. “I’ll take care of this too.”

There was a flicker of light and Lindsay appeared, hovering in the air above them. She looked a little dizzy.

“I tried to take a nap like you told me, Lewis,” she said, “but honestly, the
noise
!”

Still gripping the troll’s arm, Lewis’s glance lighted on the spice rack just behind where Loki was standing.
Amongst the transformed contents was a glass jar of rusty powder that looked like cayenne pepper.

Pointing, he said, “Lindsay, do you see that jar of red powder there?”

Lindsay nodded then clutched her head as though it hurt.

“Toss it to me!”

Lindsay ducked behind Loki and snatched the jar from the rack. As she fluttered away, Loki took a swipe at her with the book and missed. “I should have brought a fly swatter,” he snapped irritably.

“Here, Lewis,” said Lindsay, lobbing the jar towards him.

Lewis caught it in one hand and waved it in front of the troll. “Hey, big boy, you look hungry!” he shouted. “Here’s a treat for you!”

The troll’s piggy eyes widened greedily. It opened its maw and Lewis tossed the jar inside. Before Loki could intervene, its massive teeth crunched down, pulverizing the container and releasing its contents.

The troll went rigid. Eyes popping wide, it made a noise like an elephant choking on a peppermint. Then it let out a massive sneeze.

The blast shook the air, throwing Loki off balance and knocking the book out of his hands. Lindsay was whirled into a spin that landed her, winded and dazed,
in the sink. Greg and Lewis were flung aside as the troll continued sneezing. Aunt Vivien dropped to the floor as a climactic nasal detonation knocked the creature clear off its feet.

She landed flat on her belly, right beside the spellbook. Propping herself up on her elbows, she fixed her gaze on the last lines of the spell and rapped them out in a gabble of magical syllables.

Loki made a desperate lunge to knock the pot off the stove, but before he could reach it, the contents exploded in a dazzling blast that rocked the house and sent them all reeling.

Lewis heard Loki curse through the clouds of blue smoke that billowed across the kitchen. As the air cleared, he saw Greg latch onto the table to steady himself. Mum and Aunt Vivien were clinging together, their faces buried in each other’s shoulders. Lindsay coughed and curled up in the sink with her arms over her head.

Lewis’ eyes darted to his watch. With a whoop of delight he saw the numbers changing rapidly. “It worked!” he cried.

His jubilation turned to horror when he saw Loki make a leap for the book, which was still lying open on the floor. Lewis made a desperate grab, but Loki was faster and caught it up in both hands.

“Game’s not over yet, boys,” he declared. “I can just cast the spell all over again.” He blew a mock kiss at Aunt Vivien. “Thanks for showing me the ropes, Viv.”

“You unspeakable cad,” Aunt Vivien responded with a venomous glower.

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” said Greg, “but won’t you need to collect the ingredients for your spell first?”

Loki shrugged. “That’s a piece of cake, kid.”

“But a cake needs time to bake,” said Greg with a smirk.

He pointed at the hourglass. The sand was running down swiftly and in seconds it had all dropped to the bottom. Lewis flipped it over. Again an hour’s worth of sand ran out in a matter of seconds.

“What in blazes is going on?” Loki demanded.

The numbers on Lewis’ watch were racing so fast now they had become a blur. “Time hasn’t just started up again,” he explained excitedly, “it’s hurrying to catch up with itself!”

“And it’s catching up with you too, Loki,” Greg added with relish. “Lokiday’s over at last.”

Loki turned white. Wheeling, he thrust the spellbook at Aunt Vivien. “Make this stop, Viv! Please!” he begged. “I’ll make it worth your while, I promise.”

Aunt Vivien tottered proudly on her high heels. She snatched the book away from him and said, “You
and I have nothing more to say to each other, Lucas. You’re nothing but a –” she struggled to find a suitably damning word, “– a chancer!”

Loki looked stunned. His eyes swivelled to the window and his mouth dropped open in disbelief.

The sun shot overhead like a rocket, drawing light and shadow behind it in a darkening curtain. The moon followed like a silver plate hurled across the heavens, flashing from east to west as stars popped out all over the sky.

In the deepening twilight Greg’s triumphant grin was still clearly visible. “Cheerio, Loki!” he said. “It’s time to kiss your day goodbye.”

A final Nordic curse sprang to Loki’s lips, then everything went black.

There was a knock at the bedroom door and Mum’s voice called, “Wake up, boys! It’s a school day!”

Lewis heard her walk away towards the stairs as he stirred from his sleep. He extracted an arm from the sleeping bag and reached for his watch. The display read 7:34.

Greg was invisible beneath his mound of disordered covers. Lewis stretched over and gave him a poke. He was answered by a grunt, then Greg sat bolt upright, the covers falling into a heap on the floor. He looked down at Lewis.

“What day is it?”

“Friday I hope,” Lewis answered.

Greg jumped out of bed and yanked open the curtains. He looked at the back garden in the fresh morning light and nodded his head. There was no sign of the well or anything else out of the ordinary. “It looks normal,” he murmured.

He rounded on Lewis with a suspicious gleam in his eye. “You don’t think I’m cracked in the head, do you?”

“No, I remember it all too,” Lewis reassured him. “Lokiday, Loki, everything.”

“So it really did happen.”

Greg crossed the room and poked his head out into the hallway.

“Everything seems to be back to normal,” he said.

They got dressed and hurried downstairs for breakfast. They stopped at the kitchen door, briefly paralysed by the memory of yesterday’s experiences. They could hear Mum singing “All You Need Is Love”.

It was Lewis who worked up the nerve to open the door and walk into the kitchen. Mum was there in a white blouse and a pair of jeans, her light brown hair tied with a ribbon at the back. She looked round and smiled.

“Mum, you’re not an ogre!” Lewis exclaimed.

Mum looked at him as though he were ill. “Should I take that as a compliment?”

“What’s for breakfast?” Greg asked.

“Bacon and eggs. Is that all right?”

“It’s better than all right, Mum.”

“Fine. Help yourself to some cereal.”

They poured themselves a generous helping of sugared nut flakes by way of celebration and sat down to eat. Even the milk tasted better than ever.

“You know, after all that madness, having Aunt Vivien visit doesn’t seem like such a big problem any
more,” Lewis said.

Greg almost choked on his flakes. “What?” he exclaimed, staring at his brother.

Lewis shook his head. “You’re right. I don’t know what made me say that.”

“You boys seem very excited this morning,” Mum said when she came out with the bacon and eggs.

“Of course we are,” Lewis told her. “It’s Friday.”

As they headed off to school they were pleased to note a complete absence of horses, goats, giant frogs, goblins, trolls, fairies and, above all, Valkyries. They had to cut short their discussion of the previous day’s events when they ran into Tim Findlay and the Nicoll kids, and they didn’t see each other again until school finished.

Greg strolled out of the gate and spotted Lewis talking to Lindsay. He had never seen this before, and it was so curious it drew him in spite of his powerful instinct to avoid Lindsay at all costs.

“Are you two talking about me?” he asked jauntily.

Lindsay barely looked at him. She said, “Hi, Greg,” in an off-hand manner and turned back to Lewis. “I’ll see you later, Lewis,” she beamed, then skipped off down the street.

“Yes, good,” Lewis said, looking more bewildered than happy.

“What happened?” Greg asked him. “Did you finally use those hypnosis techniques I told you about?”

Lewis shook his head. “She’s been following me around all day, just making conversation. She even told me she was going to the skating rink tomorrow and that I should come along.”

“Rather you than me,” Greg said wryly.

Lewis blushed. “I don’t know what’s going on. She can’t remember anything that happened on Lokiday. Nobody except us does. Probably not even Loki.”

“Maybe it’s just your natural charm shining through at last. If you’d watched that DVD
Seventeen Steps to Self-confidence
like I told you to last year, this would have happened a long time ago. But no, you were too wet.”

“So how did the maths test go?” Lewis asked, changing the subject.

Greg’s grin was so wide Lewis wondered what was keeping his jaw in place. “It was cancelled. Mrs Witherspoon came down with flu and had to stay at home. Can you believe it?”

The Chiz came loping past and waved a greeting.

“Chiz, how about some target practice later?” Greg suggested.

“Huh?” The Chiz stared at him, baffled.

“Never mind. I’m just kidding.”

The Chiz ambled off. He looked better without the fur.

Greg and Lewis strolled home at a leisurely pace, still enjoying the fact that it was Friday. When they reached the house, what they didn’t see brought them to a dramatic halt.

“Where’s Aunt Vivien’s car?” Lewis asked.

Greg shrugged. “It’s not like anybody would steal such an atrocity.”

Once inside, they cornered Mum in the front room.

“Where’s Aunt Vivien?” they asked in unison.

“She got a call from a sick friend and had to leave,” Mum answered. “Her neighbour, Letitia, I think it was.”

Her own relief was poorly disguised.

Greg gave his brother a wink. “See? I told you it would be a lucky day.”

They went upstairs to Greg’s room and Lewis began gathering his stuff together. He stopped when he came to Loki’s book,
The Folklore Of Time
. He picked it up tentatively, as if it were packed with high explosives.

“What do you think we should do about this?” he asked. “Suppose somebody else recites the rhyme.”

Greg took the book from him and flipped to the Lokiday rhyme. Taking a firm grip on the top of the page, he ripped it right out.

Lewis couldn’t contain his shock at seeing a book mutilated like this. “You can’t do that!” he exclaimed. “What will I tell Mr Calvert when he sees there’s a page missing?”

Greg smiled. “Tell him I ate it.”

And he did.

Meanwhile, in Las Vegas, a red-haired figure in an expensive green suit was being ejected from the Three Horseshoes Casino by two burly individuals who were not in the habit of being argued with. The red-haired man picked himself up from the pavement and dusted off his suit.

“My credit’s still good in plenty of joints in this town!” he shouted at the two hulking figures as they disappeared inside the casino. “I don’t have to cheat there!”

He stood and fumed for a moment then stuffed his hands into his pockets before stalking off down the brightly lit boulevard. Passers-by gave way to him, as though there were a red warning light blinking on the top of his head.

A light sprinkle of rain began to fall, prompting him to turn up his collar and tug down the brim of his fedora. “Cleaned out again,” he muttered sourly to himself. “You’d think that just once I could get one tiny piece of good luck.”