‘CALL THE COUNCIL OF THE VALKYRIES!’ Scold bellowed, unlocking the mighty gates of Asgard.
‘Call the Council of the Valkyries!’ Flee and Flay echoed, half carrying, half dragging Lotta towards the Valkyrie Training School.
‘Let me go!’ Lotta yanked her arms away from Flee and Flay, stumbling as they released her.
She hobbled slowly into the courtyard by the school where the Valkyries had assembled. They jostled into a semi-circular position, grouped together according to rank. The Class Ones in the middle, and Class Twos to the left. Lotta joined the Class Threes, huddling together on the right. All were turned to face the archway.
‘All hail Odin, the Allfather, the Spear Shaker, the Terrifying One-Eyed Chief, the Leader of the Valkyries!’ chanted the Valkyries as a tall, grizzled man with a blue cloak and one eye strode through the archway.
Behind him came a collection of glowing people. It wasn’t often the Valkyries called a council, and no one wanted to miss out. Lotta recognized Thor, the God of Thunder, with his mighty hammer; beautiful dark-skinned Freyja, the Goddess of Love; and Odin’s golden-haired wife Frigg, Goddess of Family. Even a few of the warriors from Valhalla appeared. Each of the warriors glowed faint blue, filling the courtyard with an unearthly light.
‘Fight! Fight! Fight!’ chanted one of the warriors. He stopped when he noticed Frigg glaring at him. ‘Sorry,’ he muttered.
Odin stopped in front of the Valkyries. In one hand he held a long wooden staff. Two ravens screeched and circled around him, bringing him news from across the Nine Worlds.
Flee poked Flay. ‘Loki’s not here.’
Flay craned her neck to peer around. ‘Neither is Vali.’
‘I knew he hadn’t told us everything.’
‘Oh dear, is your best buddy Loki missing?’ Lotta hissed through gritted teeth.
Flee opened her mouth to reply.
A short Class One Valkyrie with tanned skin and lines tattooed across her fingers and face stepped forward. ‘SILENCE!’
Flee’s mouth closed with a snap.
‘BRING OUT THE ACCUSED!’ the tattooed Valkyrie commanded. This was Glinting-Fire, Odin’s enforcer. She often stalked around Asgard carrying a clipboard, checking up on the trainees with on-the-spot quizzes. Lotta always failed. It wasn’t that she didn’t know the answers; there was just something about Glinting-Fire’s dark, piercing gaze that always made Lotta’s mind go blank. Once she even forgot her own name.
Lotta stepped into the centre of the courtyard. She dropped to her knees, pain shooting up her leg.
Odin peered down. ‘Is this her?’ he asked, his forehead creasing. ‘She doesn’t look like a criminal.’
Glinting-Fire snapped, ‘Name?’ Her thick plaits quivered on either side of her head.
‘Um, Brings-A-Lot-Of-Scrapes-And-Grazes, Class Three Valkyrie,’ Lotta stammered.
Glinting-Fire threw out her stubby arms. ‘Bring forth the CODE OF THE VALKYRIES!’
Two Valkyries dragged a large stone tablet out of the shadows. It scraped unpleasantly across the bumpy ground, loomed over Lotta and cast her into shadow. She read the words carved into it:
‘You are charged with breaking the Code of the Valkyries by bringing a non-Hero into Valhalla. How do you plead?’ Glinting-Fire demanded.
Lotta swallowed, her words sticking in her throat. ‘Technically I didn’t bring him into Valhalla.’
Glinting-Fire’s eyes blazed. ‘But you do admit you brought a living human to Asgard?’
‘I didn’t mean to do it,’ Lotta mumbled, staring at the ground.
‘A confession of guilt! A terrible crime against the order of the Nine Worlds!’ Glinting-Fire faced the crowd. ‘It starts with humans, but where does it end? Who will she bring in next? Dwarves? Elves? GIANTS?’
Thor hefted his hammer thoughtfully. A warrior who appeared to be entirely made of scars and green tattoos tutted and shook his head.
Glinting-Fire turned to Odin. ‘What is to be the punishment?’
Behind Glinting-Fire, Freyja rolled her eyes and stepped forwards. ‘Shouldn’t we hear what she has to say for herself first?’
Glinting-Fire glared at the Goddess of Love and Sorcery. ‘There are rules, Freyja.’
Freyja dipped her head. ‘Yes, and sometimes, Glinting-Fire, rules are broken for a good reason.’ She turned to Lotta. ‘Go on.’
Lotta lifted her head slowly. She glanced at the rest of the Valkyries, hoping for a friendly face. Akrid tossed her dreadlocks and sniffed. Flee and Flay were smirking. Lotta ignored them and focused on Odin’s one remaining eye. ‘It seems to me that the only reason I’m in trouble is because you don’t think Whetstone is a Hero.’
‘Who’s Whetstone?’ Odin asked.
‘Must be the human she’s been messing about with,’ replied his wife, Frigg, patting him on the arm.
The Valkyries and ghostly warriors, most of whom looked like they had been put through a mincer and then stuck back together again, muttered to each other. Heroes were important. You couldn’t have just anyone turning up and claiming to be one.
Odin tipped his head to one side, half of his face vanishing into shadow. ‘Go on.’
‘But if I can prove he’s a real Hero, it would be OK that I brought him to Asgard. That’s what Valkyries are supposed to do, isn’t it? Bring Heroes to fill Valhalla ready for Ragnarok.’
At the word Ragnarok, the warriors cheered. A few waved their weapons – this is what they were here for, after all.
Flee piped up from the group of Class Threes. ‘But he’s still not dead – even if he is a Hero, which I doubt.’
‘But that’s just a matter of timing. I mean, he’ll be dead one day, so maybe I’m just really, really early.’
‘Pah,’ snorted Flee.
The Valkyries and warriors muttered again. The man with the green tattoos murmured, ‘She’s got a point.’
Odin stroked his long white beard. ‘That sounds reasonable,’ he said at last. ‘But he’ll have to prove his worth beyond doubt.’
Lotta gazed up at Odin, hope flowering in her eyes.
‘What is he going to have to do to prove it?’ Glinting-Fire asked, tapping her clipboard. ‘We need to set out the rules.’
The Gods and Valkyries all looked at each other for ideas.
‘Beat up some Giants?’ bellowed Thor, swinging his hammer.
Freyja tipped her beautiful head. ‘Forge a magic ring?’
‘Trust you to think of jewellery, Freyja.’ Frigg tutted. ‘How about capturing a sea monster?’
‘Wait a minute,’ said Scold, stepping forward. ‘When we found Lotta, there was a dragon – Nidhogg, I think – on Midgard. Nidhogg shouldn’t be on Midgard!’
‘Perfect,’ agreed Odin. ‘Whetstone the human must send Nidhogg the dragon back to Niflheim.’
Lotta’s heart sank. Whetstone couldn’t even manage to get out from under the dragon. How in all of the Nine Worlds was he going to send it back to Niflheim?
A shriek came from the trainees, making everyone turn and look. Flay and Flee were laughing so hard they couldn’t stand. Clutching on to each other, they fell on to the rutted ground.
‘Defeat a dragon!’ Flay chortled.
‘He’ll never manage that – not in a hundred years,’ cried Flee, sitting up and wiping away tears of laughter with the corner of Freyja’s skirt.
Freyja gave her a sour look and snatched her skirts away.
Scold ignored the giggling twins. ‘But he’ll have to do it alone.’ She fixed Lotta with a hard look. ‘No helping.’
Lotta struggled to her feet, trying to balance on her good leg. ‘But shouldn’t we at least tell him what he has to do?’
From the group of Class Twos, Akrid called out, ‘If he’s a real Hero, I’m sure he’ll figure it out.’
Her freckled friend nodded. ‘Dragons don’t belong on Midgard – that much should be obvious.’
Glinting-Fire scribbled something on her clipboard. ‘I’m fed up with second-rate Heroes making it to Valhalla. Someone needs to implement better standards.’ She glared at Scold.
Frigg leaned forward; she patted Lotta on the head. ‘They’re only humans. Leave them to get on with it.’
Lotta winced as pain shot up from her ankle. ‘He’s not only a human. He’s my … friend.’
Flay marched up to her. ‘Get over it, Lotta – you failed. There’s no way your loser “friend” will be able to get rid of the dragon, and you’ll never be a real Valkyrie.’
‘Yeah,’ Flee agreed. ‘Deal with it.’
Lotta smiled. ‘I haven’t failed, Flay. I’m just succeeding differently.’
Flay scowled.
Lotta grabbed on to Flee to help her balance. ‘One question. How did you know about Whetstone anyway?’
Scold glared at them. ‘Good point. And don’t think I’ve forgotten about you two skiving off in the stables – it’s still a mess in there.’
Flee shook Lotta off her arm. ‘That wasn’t our fault. He was late.’
Flay jabbed her in the ribs. ‘Shh!’
‘Who was late?’
Flee’s eyes darted from side to side. ‘Loki,’ she said slowly.
A hiss escaped from between Freyja’s perfect teeth.
‘And Whetstone said that he’d heard them talking,’ Lotta added quickly, limping towards Scold. ‘They’ve been helping Loki look for Frigg’s magic cup!’
Scold exhaled through her nose, making her nostrils flare. ‘WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT MESSING ABOUT WITH THAT MAN! You’re supposed to be Valkyries – you serve Odin, not that selfish Fire Giant! Now get into Valhalla and start scrubbing tables before I get really angry!’
Without a backwards glance, the sisters scurried off into the enormous hall.
Thor tossed his hammer in the air and caught it by the handle. ‘We should’ve guessed that Loki would be involved somehow.’
‘Yes, let the humans deal with him this time,’ Frigg agreed. ‘I’ve had enough of his antics. Even if he finds my cup, it will be no use to him. I saw to that.’ She pulled back her sleeves. ‘To learn anything from the cup, Loki would have to find someone to speak to it for him. Someone whose fortune was closely linked to what Loki was trying to find out.’
Lotta gulped. ‘Do you know what he’s trying to find out?’
‘I know all the fates of Gods and men,’ Frigg preened.
‘Loki is a Fire Giant,’ Thor pointed out.
Frigg tossed her honey-coloured hair. ‘OK, so that’s a bit of a blind spot, but as long as he’s out of Asgard, I couldn’t care less.’ Frigg spun on her heel and, taking Odin’s arm, left the courtyard. Freyja gave Lotta an appraising look before following.
Scold clapped her hands. ‘Right, girls. Back to Valhalla – we’ve got mead to serve.’
The trainee Valkyries groaned. The ghostly warriors cheered and began to drift towards Valhalla.
Lotta’s eye travelled to the handle of the iron key poking out of Scold’s pocket. It looked very tempting. If she borrowed it for a bit, she could go down to Midgard, give Whetstone a helping hand and have him proved a Hero in no time. No one would ever know … Lotta grinned – she’d definitely been hanging out with Whetstone for too long if she was thinking about stealing things. Lotta limped closer to Scold, brushing her hand against her teacher’s pocket.
Scold clapped a hand on to Lotta’s shoulder. ‘Not you.’
Lotta gulped, her fingers curling around the key. She turned to face Scold, pulling the key out of her pocket and tucking it beneath her wrist guard as she did so.
‘I’ve got a special job for you. You’re going to polish all the armour used by the warriors today. And when you’re finished, you’re going to polish it all again.’
Lotta groaned. She hated polishing armour.
‘Go and get your ankle sorted out first, though. We can’t have you limping about – it makes us look unprofessional.’ Scold marched off towards Valhalla, chivvying the trainees along in front of her.
Lotta pulled the metal key out of her wrist guard. Behind her a raven cawed, watching her with glinting eyes.
Lotta put her fingers to her lips. ‘Shhh.’