The Sleeping Army (18 page)

Hel was giving her a gift. Freya dreaded to think what it would be. A dead snake? A bone strung on a necklace? Nail shavings?

Freya took the wooden box from the sepulchral servant and opened it. She adjusted her face to look grateful for whatever horror it contained.

Inside was a nut.

Freya gripped it tight. Her heart stopped. She swallowed.

‘I'm doing this for you,' said Hel. ‘Not for them. I hate the Gods. I'll always hate them. But my revenge can wait until the Axe-Age and the Wind-Age and the Wolf-Age at the bitter end of days.'

Freya clasped the nut carefully in one hand, and took out her falcon feather with the other.

‘I'll build a shrine to you,' said Freya.

‘That will be a first,' said Hel. ‘Don't think you'll get too many worshippers.'

‘Goodbye,' said Freya. ‘Thank you. I'll never forget you.'

‘Stay,' said Hel suddenly. ‘You'll never make it back to Asgard alive. You're already ivory up to your neck. Here you can live forever. Just think, mortal Freya, life
everlasting. Your friends and family will all be here to join you soon enough.'

Freya hesitated.

‘This place isn't so bad once you get used to it,' said Hel, slowly sitting up. ‘Everyone's here, you know. All the greats. You can meet anyone you like. There's no pain. No suffering.'

Freya's head swam. She could have immortality – of a sort – or a tiny chance of getting back to Asgard alive before fate turned her into a chess piece and a living death asleep for eternity.

She breathed the fetid air and stared at the sad girl looking up at her so hopefully.

‘I can't,' said Freya. ‘I have to try.'

‘Go then,' said Hel. ‘See if I care.'

Freya slipped through the bed hangings on to the threshold and back into the hall, reaching into her pocket for the nuts she had brought. She looked around for Loki, but couldn't see him amongst the whirling dead. Quickly, she pushed through the teeming ghosts, flinging on the falcon skin, and flew through the open door into the murky gloom outside Hel's hall.

A man guarded the doorway. Loki.

He's not expecting me to fly, thought Freya. At that
moment, Loki raised his eyes and saw her.

He snarled with rage and sprang up at her. Freya hurled herself into the air, flying high over the gates. Behind her she could hear pounding feet as Loki turned into Sleipnir and jumped after her. She felt his hot breath as the horse leapt into the air, swiping at her with his flailing hooves.

She twisted away from him and flew higher through the foggy mist.

Loki snarled with rage. ‘Thjazi will get you!' he bellowed. ‘I'll soon be picking apart your carrion!'

Freya's heart thudded as she flew ever higher up and up into the blackness, Loki's curses ringing after her, then she was once again inside Hekla and whirling upwards, the prize clutched in her right claw.

Freya flew out of Hekla. After the endless gloom of Hel, the bright sunlight almost blinded her. She looked down and saw Snot's ripped and torn body, sprawled on the blackened lava by the volcano's mouth.

Roskva was nowhere to be seen.

‘Snot!' Freya wailed.

He'd died for her. But she had to leave him behind. Darting through the smoky ash she soared into the clear sky above the black volcanoes. She was on her own. She would have to find Asgard on her own.

Stay calm, she told herself, stay calm. Just head for
the mountains. You can do this.

And then she saw him. He was a dot on the horizon, then a blot in the sky, growing larger and larger every second. And he was coming straight at her.

Freya flew for her life. Over the barren wilderness, high over the mountains, Freya flew. But every time she twisted her head the giant eagle was a little bit closer. An eagle can outfly a falcon, she thought, despairingly.

All too soon, Freya heard the whoosh whoosh of frantic wings, ripping the air. Glancing round, she saw the huge eagle hurtling after her, filling the sky.

Her world shrank to a pinprick of straining muscles, pounding heart and beating wings. Faster! Faster! Faster! Faster! Faster!

Freya heard a terrible whirr as the monstrous eagle closed in, talons outstretched, ready to rip her apart.

She felt the air hum. Thjazi was her death, and it was almost upon her.

NO! She dived steeply, twisting away from his talons. Then she opened her left claw, and let a nut fall.

The eagle spiralled after the nut, plummeting towards the ground. Freya flew harder and faster, tearing the clouds, straining to get as far ahead as possible before Thjazi discovered he didn't have Idunn.

On and on she flew, terror and panic jolting her to ever-greater speed. Had she gone in the right direction? Where was Asgard? Why, why, did she never know where she was? She'd followed Alfi's instructions, she was sure she'd followed—

And there it was. Yggdrasil, the world tree, shooting up into the blue sky before her. Freya zoomed towards it.

But behind her was Thjazi, and the
whirr-whirr-whirr
of his wings bearing down on her.

Freya thought of her PE teacher, mean Miss Sylvester, bellowing at her to run faster in the school cross-country race. Freya had been so terrified she'd run like a crazed animal and wound up on the cross-country team.

Freya veered and flew straight for Yggdrasil. Go! Go! Go!

She shrieked, as the high walls of Asgard towered into view. She could see two specks, which turned into people, which turned into … Alfi and Roskva. They were standing on either side of what looked like a gigantic pile of kindling and wood.

The eagle was now so close behind she heard his giant wings slice the air.

He'll get me here, thought Freya. I'll fly over the
wall and he'll come straight after me. There is no escape. How could I have thought I could escape him? He'll rip me to pieces when I land. Oh Gods!

‘Light the fire!' screamed Alfi.

Fire? thought Freya.

Flames whooshed high into the air. She felt the heat singe her feathers like a hot furnace, Thjazi only a few hair's-breadths behind her. Freya spun out of the sky into the citadel of the Gods, clutching the nut, reeling to avoid the fireball.

Thjazi was following too fast and flew straight through the flames. She heard a terrible agonised scream as his wings caught fire.

Twisting in agony, the eagle fell to earth, in a thrashing burning heap.

Freya lay on the ground inside the walls, gasping and trembling. Dimly she saw Alfi and Roskva stabbing the flaming, shrieking eagle. His death cries tore through her.

There was a horrible smell of blood and burnt, smoking feathers.

‘He's dead! He's dead!' they shouted. Then Roskva and Alfi ran up to her. Their faces were ivory to the tips of their white-streaked hair.

Freya flung off the falcon skin and regained human
form. She lay panting and shivering, gulping the air through her singed lungs. The nut was clutched in her ivory hand. Roskva had to prise open her fingers before she would release Idunn.

The All-Father stumbled over to them. Roskva held out the great prize.

Woden sighed and took hold of the nut, cradling it in his bony, palsied grip. Tears poured from his eye. He murmured runes, again and again, shaking his head and trembling, his face scrunched with effort, his eye bulging. The other Gods staggered over, spectre-grey, muttering and murmuring, hissing and whispering.

Oh, get it right, prayed Freya, get it right.

Suddenly a girl stood before them, golden and shimmering. Over her arm she carried a basket. She smiled, and held out an apple.

Woden took a bite, and then another. His twisted limbs began to straighten, and tufts of hair fuzzed on his bald scalp.

Freya's body tingled. She looked down and saw the ivory recede from her arms and legs. Roskva and Alfi were leaping and whooping, ivory no more. Above her, Yggdrasil's mighty branches sprouted leaves, wreathing the sky.

Idunn walked silently amongst the reviving Gods,
smiling and radiant, passing each an apple from her basket. The Gods snatched them and ate greedily, crying and laughing as they saw flesh gradually returning to their withered limbs and colour flecking their sunken cheeks.

Idunn smiled at Freya.

‘Enjoy your youth, mortal,' she whispered.

There was a roaring and bellowing as a gigantic grey-bearded man picked up a hammer and tried to swing it over his head before gasping and letting it drop. ‘Ooofff, my aching arms,' he moaned. ‘That thing weighs more than a whale.'

‘Council of the Gods to meet NOW by the Well of Urd,' Woden boomed. The heavens shook. ‘We need to trick some giants into re-building our Halls.' Then he groaned and clutched his thigh. ‘Ooh, my lumbago. Idunn, I want more apples NOW!'

There was a happy buzz as the Immortals hobbled to their ancient meeting place, laughing and tossing their wisps of hair. Their bodies eased and lengthened as Freya gazed after them.

Is that it? thought Freya.

The Goddess Frigg paused.

‘I almost forgot,' she rasped, holding out her liver-spotted hand, ‘my falcon skin.'

Silently Freya handed it back to her.

Frigg shook out the silky feathers and examined them. ‘They're singed,' she shrieked. She clicked her tongue against her tooth and sighed loudly. ‘Why weren't you more careful?'

‘I did—'

‘You'd better keep it,' said Frigg, handing it back. ‘I can't fly around in
that
. I'll use Freyja's.'

The Goddess Freyja glared at her.

‘I don't have my falcon skin any more,' she snapped. ‘Like an idiot I loaned it to Loki long ago, remember?'

‘It's hanging at Skadi's,' said Freya.

The Goddess tossed her thickening white hair, touched with gold, and scowled.

‘You left it there?' said Freyja. ‘Idiot.'

‘If you remember,' said Freya, ‘we were trying to find Idunn.'

Frigg linked arms with Freyja. ‘We'll get it back,' said Frigg. ‘Let's raise the matter at the Council.'

‘Idunn!' shouted Freyja. ‘More apples! I still have bingo wings!'

‘Apples are hard to eat without teeth,' grumbled Frigg.

The two Goddesses tottered off together after Idunn, propping each other up. Only Woden stayed
behind, lost in thought, his brow furrowed. The two ravens on his shoulders fluttered with newly-sprouted feathers.

‘You did well, Freya,' said Roskva. She nodded. ‘You did well. We owe you – everything.'

Freya beamed. Her body ached all over.

‘Whose idea – the fire?' she rasped.

‘Mine,' said Alfi. He grinned. ‘Thjazi chased me, I barely got away from him, and I thought you'd suffer the same fate. Roskva wasn't here, she only just made it back, I had to think for myself. I realised we had to do something to stop Thjazi if he flew here after you …'

Roskva scowled. ‘And why do you think I sent you here ahead of me?'

‘Fair enough,' said Alfi.

‘I'd hardly have a reputation for wisdom if I couldn't see further into the future than
you
,' said Roskva.

Alfi snorted. ‘What reputation for wisdom?'

They smiled at one another.

‘I could have been burnt to a crisp,' said Freya.

‘But you weren't,' said Roskva.

‘Roskva! Alfi! I need you
now
!' bellowed Thor.

‘We'd better go,' said Alfi.

‘Business as usual,' said Roskva.

‘Snot?' said Freya.

Roskva's face fell. ‘Thjazi attacked. I managed to run away, but Snot …'

‘I hope the All-Father will send the Choosers of the Slain to bring him back here,' said Alfi.

Freya gasped. ‘That reminds me,' she said.

She ran up to Woden and tugged on his sleeve.

‘I must know,' she said. ‘What will happen to the others?'

‘Must?' he said, glaring down at her. ‘Must? Must? What others?'