The air felt flat and still. Full of static, like a storm was on the way. Whetstone tilted his head sideways; everyone else had gone very quiet.
‘Lotta?’ he hissed.
A raven croaked loudly. Whetstone glanced up. Watching him intently was Odin.
‘They cannot see or hear us, nor will they remember what happens in this time,’ the God explained.
Whetstone stood up. Slowly Lotta got to her feet beside him. ‘What do I do?’ he muttered.
Lotta shrugged. ‘Something brave? He’s come to decide if you’re a Hero.’
‘I am a Hero.’ Whetstone grinned. ‘I got rid of the dragon, didn’t I?’
‘With my help!’
‘I didn’t see you volunteering to put your hand inside his mouth!’
‘Ahem.’
They both looked up from their whispered conversation. Lotta’s fingers twisted together nervously. ‘So, we were wondering if Whetstone has proven he’s a proper Hero? Am I allowed to go back to Asgard?’
Odin’s beard twitched into a smile. ‘I’ll have to have a word with Scold about raising your Collecting Fallen Warriors score.’
‘Yes!’ Lotta fist-pumped the air. ‘I knew it!’
The Allfather jiggled his staff. One of the ravens took flight, sweeping low over the frozen Vikings before using his claws to snatch the golden cup from Awfulrick’s shoulder. The bird dropped it at Whetstone’s feet.
‘Men have fought and died for that cup. Do you know why?’
Whetstone nudged it with his toe. ‘Loki said it had powers – it could tell you your fate.’
Odin sighed; one of the ravens ruffled his feathers. ‘It once belonged to my wife, Frigg, and like her it knows all the fates of men and Gods. But unlike Frigg, it will actually tell you,’ he finished, under his breath.
Lotta nudged Whetstone with her elbow. ‘Tell him about Loki.’
Whetstone looked up. ‘Loki wanted the cup to tell him a riddle – well, tell me a riddle to repeat to him. There was this harp, made by the Dwarves—’
‘Frigg gave the cup a very specific skill,’ Odin interrupted. ‘It can tell the future, but only of the person who holds it. It wouldn’t tell Loki what he wanted to know directly. He had a … falling-out with Frigg, and now he can’t even hold it in his hands. Frigg thinks that will be enough to stop him, but I’m not so sure.’
‘So Loki was right.’ Lotta gestured to Whetstone. ‘Whetstone’s fate is to find his parents – and the missing harp strings.’
Odin sighed. ‘Fate is a complicated thing. You can have more than one, depending on the decisions you make. Your fate could be to return the harp to the Dwarves, or it could be simply to have scrambled eggs for tea.’
Whetstone glanced up, determined. ‘Not me. I know I’m going to find my parents and bring them back to Midgard.’
Odin’s beard twitched into a smile. ‘Would you like to be sure?’
Whetstone stooped to pick up the cup; it felt cold and glassy under his fingers as he turned it over in his hands. His family might have been destroyed by Loki and the Skera Harp, but it didn’t have to stay that way. Whetstone realized that Odin was right – his fate depended on the choices he made now, and whatever the cup said, he was getting his family back.
He held the cup up to his mouth. ‘Go on then, tell me my fate.’
In a thin but clear voice, the cup replied:
You will seek to find, those who have been pulled apart.
A journey high and deep, into Yggdrasil’s heart.
One you will find below, in an ice-locked land,
Still living but alone, for Hel holds him in her hand.
The other you will find, bound by a glittering chain.
She is kept for her tears, they fall as golden rain.
The pieces must all be sought, and joined once more as one,
None shall be whole until Loki’s crime is undone.
The cup’s voice faded away, echoes bouncing around the frozen Vikings.
Whetstone dropped the cup on to the ground, the words ringing in his head. He had no idea what they meant, but it was a start!
Lotta’s face scrunched up. ‘What was all that about?’
‘I’m sure you’re not expecting me to answer that,’ Odin replied. Whetstone looked into the God’s face. It was said he had exchanged one eye for knowledge and that his ravens flew endlessly around the Nine Worlds bringing him news. Whetstone wondered how much he already knew. ‘I will tell you one thing: Loki won’t stop looking – for you or the harp strings.’
‘But Nidhogg ate him!’ Whetstone spluttered.
Odin smiled. ‘You don’t know Loki if you think that will finish him. Whetstone, you may not have intended to find yourself in the middle of Loki’s schemes, but you are perfectly placed to be the one who stops him. It is not yet the time for Ragnarok. The Nine Worlds must remain separate. It would be Heroic indeed if the harp strings were found and returned to the Dwarves before Loki gets his hands on them.’
Whetstone gulped. ‘I’m not sure I’m the right sort of Hero to—’
Set in his tanned face, Odin’s eye twinkled brightly. ‘Maybe it’s time for a new sort of Hero … and a new sort of Valkyrie,’ he added, turning to Lotta, who puffed her chest out with pride.
‘But if you know what Loki is up to, why didn’t you stop him?’ Whetstone asked.
‘I am stopping him. I have placed you in his path,’ Odin replied. ‘It will be interesting to see what his next move is.’
Whetstone goggled. ‘Me against Loki?’
Lotta smiled. ‘I almost feel sorry for Loki.’
Whetstone straightened his shoulders. ‘So … it’s save the harp strings, save my parents, save the Nine Worlds?’
Lotta laughed. ‘You’re getting the hang of being a Hero after all!’
Sleipnir whinnied, shaking his golden mane. Odin climbed back into the saddle. ‘Good luck, Whetstone. I will keep an eye out for you, but it is time for us to return to Asgard.’
‘I guess this is goodbye, then, thief boy!’ Lotta thumped him on the arm again. ‘I kind of wish I could come with you. Valkyries usually only get to see Heroes after they’re dead. It’s been fun seeing what you get up to beforehand.’
‘Fun, yeah. If by fun you mean nearly getting burnt, eaten, falling to our doom, or banished.’
Lotta grinned. ‘The important word there is nearly.’
Whetstone reached in his pocket for the crumpled guidebook to the Nine Worlds. He held it out to her. ‘Don’t forget this.’
Lotta tossed her head. ‘I think you’d better keep it – you can give it to me next time I see you,’ she added with a wink.
Odin reached down to pull Lotta up behind him.
‘Say hi to Broken Tooth for me!’ Whetstone called as Sleipnir bunched up his muscles and leaped into the sky, showering Whetstone with mud and dust. Lotta waved as they shrank into the distance and vanished into the clouds.