Freya and the Magic Jewel Read online

Freya nodded, realizing it was true. In fact, some groups had dyed their hair all the same color to show patriotism to their worlds. Other world groups wore the same color outfits or identical badges on their clothing. Each group wanted to appear separate.

  “I wonder if there will be kids from Niflheim at this school,” Kvasir said from behind her.

  Huh? The very thought of Niflheim, the dark, foggy world of the dead way down on the third ring, gave Freya the creeps.

  “Haven’t seen any so far,” said Njord. He bent to pick up a seashell that had somehow found its way this far inland.

  “Probably will be sooner or later,” warned Freya, looking back at the boys as she carefully picked her way through the rubble. “It wouldn’t be fair if Niflheim wasn’t represented.” But even pointing this out didn’t deter Frey, who continued marching onward. Did he really not care that they might have classes with the dead? Feeling a prick of conscience, Freya turned her thoughts in a more charitable direction. If she did wind up having to stay at this academy, she’d try to be open-minded about the other students, dead or alive.

  “I’m more worried about whether we’ll meet kids from Muspelheim!” Frey declared. He and Freya had heard horrible stories about the fire giants of that world. That they burned whatever they touched. So his worry was understandable!

  “Fire giants aren’t allowed out of Muspelheim,” Kvasir reminded them.

  Still, the very idea of meeting one of them made Freya shiver even more than thoughts of meeting the dead. Back home they’d been safe. Who knew what dangers lay ahead? Why, oh, why did everything have to change?

  Once the wall ruins were behind them, she, Frey, Kvasir, and Njord somehow wound up walking in the middle of the crowd of students, which Freya figured must number well over 150 by now. There were lots more students from each of the other worlds than from Vanaheim. Why? she wondered. Making yet another effort to persuade Frey to return home, she leaned toward him and whispered, “Hey, maybe this whole school thing isn’t such a good idea. We’re kind of outnumbered.”

  “Huh?” he said, but she could tell he wasn’t really listening. Oohs and aahs had begun rippling over the group of kids, drawing his attention.

  “What’s going on?” wondered Kvasir.

  Freya stood on tiptoe. Looking ahead, she gasped at what she saw—a huge, gleaming rainbow arch high overhead. “The Bifrost Bridge!” she announced in excitement, elbowing Frey.

  “Awesome!” he replied, craning his neck to look. It had been hidden from view by Yggdrasil’s branches for some time, so they hadn’t realized how close they’d gotten to it.

  Everyone knew that the doors to Asgard were reachable only via this magical bridge. Oh no! This meant they were almost there!

  “It’s not really a complete rainbow, because it has only three colors,” observed a boy. He was walking alone nearby, munching some nuts from a bag he held. “The Aesir built it out of fire, air, and water. Red for fire, blue for air, and green for water.”

  Freya studied the dark-haired, blue-eyed boy curiously, wondering which group he belonged to. He tossed a nut high and caught it in his mouth, then grinned and wiggled his eyebrows at her. They weren’t bushy, so he probably wasn’t human. As if wanting to do something to impress her, he pocketed the nuts and reached out toward two human girls walking ahead of him. Without their noticing, he sneakily tied together the ribbons at the ends of each of their single long braids, so that the girls were yoked together.

  When one of them bent to scratch her knee, it caused a sharp tug on the braid of the other girl. “Ow!” both girls squealed. Seeing Freya staring at them as they untied themselves, they frowned at her. Did they suspect she’d tied their braids?

  Just in case, Freya shook her head and scanned the students to find and point out the blue-eyed boy who’d done it. However, he had disappeared. When she turned back, the girls were still frowning at her over their shoulders. Before she could explain about the boy, they sped up, putting more distance between themselves and her.

  “We’re getting close,” said Frey, speeding up a little himself and pulling her with him. “This bridge should take us all the way up to the academy.”

  The main entrance to Bifrost was way down in Midgard, but she could see smaller on-ramps up ahead. As they approached one of those, they passed a small sign that read BEWARE OF TROLLS.

  “Why do we need to beware of them?” Freya wondered aloud.

  “I heard they like to hang out under the bridge and threaten anybody who tries to cross,” Kvasir informed her.

  Freya was relieved to see there were no trolls in sight as students began to slow and gather around a large map. It was posted in front of the bridge on-ramp and showed how the different worlds fit together under Yggdrasil. The map showed the enormous World Tree standing in the middle of everything, with three fat rings spaced out one above the other and encircling its trunk like bracelets.

  “Maybe I’m just hungry, but those three rings look like doughnuts to me,” joked Njord.

  Freya, Kvasir, and Frey laughed. “Yeah. Huge doughnuts covered with worlds,” said Kvasir.

  “Mmm, smultringer,” Freya murmured. Smultringer were among her favorite snacks. The ring-shaped doughnuts were flavored with a spice called cardamom and were best eaten warm from the frying pan. Yum!

  She was getting hungry and also tired of carrying her heavy pack. They’d been walking for hours now with only berry juice to drink. Seeing fruit trees nearby, groups of students set down their bags and began picking apples and pears to snack on as everyone took turns viewing the map.

  Munching a pear, Freya went to examine the map more closely too. She didn’t see any heart shapes that might indicate the location of that secret new world Brising had mentioned. On the other hand, a secret world wouldn’t be on a map! Still, the three rings seemed well-balanced as they were, with three worlds on each ring. Adding another world would upset things. It would mean ten worlds instead of a lucky nine!

  The first ring—the top one—included Asgard (world of the Aesir), Vanaheim (world of the Vanir, and where Freya lived, er, used to live?), and Alfheim (world of the light-elves).

  The second ring—the one in the middle—contained Midgard (world of the humans). To one side of that was Jotunheim (world of the frost giants), and to the other side was an underground labyrinth of tunnels and caves called Darkalfheim (world of the dwarfs).

  The third ring—the bottommost one—included Niflheim (world of ice and fog, and where the good dead went to be, well, dead); Helheim (world of the evil dead ruled by a female monster); and Muspelheim (world of the fire giants), which was the most terrible world of all!

  The drawing showed Yggdrasil’s three enormous roots, too. One was planted in each of the three rings at the site of a spring or well from which the root could drink and nourish the World Tree. This trio of roots linked the three rings together.

  “What if this whole school idea is a trick?” Kvasir commented uncertainly after they got their bags and stepped onto the bridge.

  It was the same concern Freya had! Making one last desperate effort to get Frey to change his mind, she said, “Yeah, what if? It’s not too late to turn back, Frey.”

  “Ha! You really think maybe the Aesir are planning to hold us for ransom in Asgard and make Vanaheim pay to get us back or something?” her brother scoffed.

  As usual, he expected the best from everyone and was slow to get suspicious. His overly trusting nature hadn’t been a worry at home in Vanaheim, where everyone they knew was a friend. But in Asgard it might put him in danger. If he was determined to keep going, she would have to go as well to look after him.

  Not ready to admit defeat, however, Freya pressed on. “It’s not such a dumb idea. The goddesses and gods of Asgard are greedy. Everybody in Vanaheim knows that! We should get out while the getting’s good.”

  “You’re from Vanaheim?” a girl from behind them piped up.

  They looked around to see that a group of about twen
ty-five kids their same age had stepped onto the bridge behind them. The girl who’d spoken wore her bright-white hair in two corkscrew ponytails, one on either side of her head. She was eyeing Freya, as if annoyed by her remark. Uh-oh, was this group from Asgard?

  Freya nodded and smiled, trying to be friendly. “Yes we are.”

  “Well, look who’s talking, then. Nobody’s greedier than you Vanaheimers,” the girl said loudly enough to reach many ears.

  “Yeah! Angerboda’s right!” grumbled some among her group.

  Frey leaned over to Freya and quietly whispered, “I wonder what world they’re from?”

  “Anger world maybe?” Freya jokingly whispered back. Not much chance of making friends with this girl no matter what world she turned out to be from!

  To Angerboda, Freya said politely, “We’re Vanir, actually, not Vanaheimers. I’m Freya, and—”

  “Well, excuuuse me!” Angerboda butted in. To her own pals she blared, “That troublemaking sorceress Gullveig was from Vanaheim too, remember, you guys? She stole Asgard’s gold and caused a war. That’s the whole reason Odin is making us go to his dumb school. So it’s all these Vanaheimers’ fault that the rest of us had to leave home!”

  “What? That’s not true!” Freya countered indignantly. “Gullveig wouldn’t steal!”

  But as soon as the words left her mouth, she realized she wasn’t really sure of their truth. Gullveig had gone gold-hunting in Asgard. Had she been tempted into stealing some? Maybe the Aesir had promised to give her the gold Freya had longed for, and then tricked her out of it? Or maybe they’d treated Gullveig badly in some way that had driven her to steal? New determination filled Freya to find her amma and learn the real story. She had to prove this bigmouth girl wrong!

  “Ha!” Angerboda grumped in disbelief. Snickers and doubting mutters sounded all around Freya and her friends now.

  Uh-oh. It seemed Freya had already managed to make a bad impression on other students, at least those who’d overheard. (And also the two girls who mistakenly believed she’d tied their braids together.) Angerboda didn’t even know her, but she’d obviously decided that the Vanir were all horrible and that Freya was greedy and stuck-up. This girl was loudly spreading a scrambled mix of truths and lies as fast as Ratatosk might’ve. She was insulting Vanaheim!

  Before Freya could say something to try to correct the bad impression, however, Frey got involved. “Take that back!” he said to Angerboda. He stood with his legs flexed and his fists thrust out in front of him. Njord and Kvasir immediately took similar stances on either side of him, their expressions fierce.

  Ymir’s knuckles! Freya thought. Here comes trouble!

  Suddenly Angerboda and her friends magically shot up to five times their normal height. White flakes began sprinkling from their heads like dandruff. But it was actually snow!

  “Frost giants!” shouted Kvasir.

  “You mean Jotunheimers!” Njord joked nervously, mocking the incorrect name Angerboda had called them minutes ago.

  “There’s a fungus among us,” Frey muttered. Another one of his nature sayings, which meant that the trouble was spreading.

  When all three boys began backing away, Freya did likewise. But the giant students from Jotunheim quickly surrounded the four Vanir. Looked like this was going to turn into a fight! A very unfair one. Because there were many more giants, and they were way bigger than the Vanir right now. They could squash Freya and her companions with a few stomps of their feet!

  “Calm down, Angerboda,” said another girlgiant. She had long, wavy black hair, with thick streaks of white in it. For some reason she had enlarged to only half the height of the other giants. And now she shrank back down to regular size.

  “A half-giant,” Kvasir explained quietly to Frey, Freya, and Njord.

  “Oh,” Freya whispered back. That meant that only one of this black-and-white-haired girl’s parents was a giant. She had good taste, Freya noted. The half-giant girl’s feet were clad in really cool snow boots trimmed with white faux fur. (Hey, just because they were in the middle of a potential fight didn’t mean she was going to stop taking note of good fashion!) Freya wanted to ask about the boots. However, now was probably not the best time, she decided.

  “Butt out, Skade,” Angerboda said to the black-and-white-haired half-giant girl.

  Suddenly, out of nowhere, came the booming sound of stomping feet. Automatically Njord glanced over at Freya, as if suspecting she was responsible for the noise.

  “I’m standing still!” she protested. “Besides, my boots aren’t that loud!” At least she hoped not.

  “Then who’s stomping?” wondered Frey.

  As if in reply, a boy somewhere in the crowd yelled a warning. “Fire giants! Run!”

  A stampede up the bridge began as everyone, including the four Vanir, tried to escape. Freya and her brother glanced at each other with big eyes as they ran. “How did the fire giants get out?” gasped Freya. “I thought they weren’t allowed to leave their world.”

  “Me too!” said Frey. “Maybe Odin invited them after all?”

  Frost giants like Angerboda and her group were one thing. But the fire giants from Muspelheim were super scary, in view of their supposed ability to burn anything in their path.

  “Ow! Ow! Hot! Hot!” yelled the frost giants, hopping from foot to foot as they ran. But when they shrank back to regular size, they stopped yelling.

  For a second Freya thought the oncoming fire giants had made the bridge hot somehow. She slowed briefly enough to touch her fingertips to its surface, then continued running. “But the bridge is freezing cold!”

  “It’s meant to guard against trouble,” mused Kvasir, who always seemed to have an explanation for everything. “When the frost giants were huge, the bridge probably sensed they were troublemakers and was trying to make them turn back from Asgard by giving them, and only them, a case of hot foot.”

  “So maybe it doesn’t know that Odin invited them—the frost giants, I mean?” wondered Frey as they all huff-puffed their way up the bridge.

  Interestingly, Skade hadn’t complained about hot feet, Freya realized, dropping back behind the boys to look over at that girl as the crowd of students rushed up the bridge. Maybe that was because she was only half-giant. Or maybe it was because she wasn’t a troublemaker like some of those other frost giants!

  Just then Freya caught a glimpse of that mischievous black-haired boy again. He was sitting on the bridge’s golden handrail, laughing like crazy. Why wasn’t he trying to escape like everyone else?

  “Run!” she called to him in concern. But he only winked at her and stayed put. What in the nine worlds was he playing at?

  6

  Oops!

  PUTTING THE STRANGE BOY OUT of her mind, Freya didn’t waste another moment as she dashed, slipped, and slid across the Bifrost Bridge with all the other students. Clomp! Clomp! Swish! Luckily, there were so many boots running now that they drowned out the loud clomp of her own.

  The bridge underfoot looked surprisingly thin and fragile, almost like glass. She was just thinking that she hoped it would hold them all, when someone bumped into her from behind. Or was it an intentional shove? Her heavy backpack shifted and threw her off-balance. The bridge was so slippery that she stumbled sideways toward its handrail, losing her footing.

  As Freya scrabbled for something to hang on to, her fingers got tangled in the delicate gold chain necklace that held Brising’s white pouch. Snap! The chain broke. The pouch fell!

  Trying to keep her balance, she swept an arm out to grab the pouch. She missed! Thump. It hit the icy bridge. “No! Brising!”

  Whoosh! Her precious jewel slid from its pouch like a pea popping out of its pod. She ignored the pouch, grabbing instead for the jewel. Her teardrop jewel was boinging in a series of bounces toward the Darkalfheim end of the bridge below, back the way they’d come. Panicking, Freya dropped her backpack and fought her way through the oncoming students who were rushing in the direction
of Asgard to escape a possible fire giant attack.

  “Brising, come back!” She lost sight of the jewel for a while. Out of her hands, it had turned to a pale-bluish diamond that was hard to see against the icy bridge. Wait! There it is! She lunged for it, her fingers inches away. She touched it, and it briefly flickered all the colors of the rainbow, indicating the current state of her crazed emotions. But before she could nab it, someone’s passing snow boot accidentally kicked it in a different direction. Bonk! It got kicked here and there by more snow boots. Bonk! Bonk!

  And then, finally . . . THWAP! It was kicked upward in a high arc—up, up, up, then over the side of the bridge!

  “Nooo!” Freya cried. She bent over the rail of the rainbow bridge and stretched out her hand. Swish! Missed again! Now she could only watch in horror as Brising sailed over the railing, to fall down, down, down toward the world of Darkalfheim.

  Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! To her astonishment, four arms broke out of the brown dirt below in that faraway world. Gnarled hands reached up and snatched at Brising like snapping turtles. Fingers captured it before it could even hit the ground. Then the hands retreated back into the dirt as fast as they’d appeared, taking Brising with them!

  The fact that the hands had come up from underground on the middle ring could mean only one thing. “Dwarfs!” she wailed. “They’ve got my jewel!”

  Oh! If only she had replaced the gold chain that held her white pouch with something stronger. It was just that the chain had been so beautiful and she had so enjoyed wearing it. Still, how could she have been so careless? Brising was gone, and it was all her fault!

  Dwarfs were always after any kind of treasure, she’d heard. Their stealing of her jewel seemed to be proof. When several student-age dwarfs rushed past her on the bridge just then, she wondered if Odin had been wise to invite them to the academy. Could they be trusted? She wasn’t so sure.

  By now more than half the students were beyond her, high on the bridge and moving closer to Asgard. But the rest were still coming at her from below. For a brief moment a gap opened between groups of kids, and she could see all the way down to the on-ramp where everyone had entered the bridge. Hey! There were no fire giants anywhere in sight! But there were big-footed trolls. They, not fire giants, were making the stomping sounds that had panicked everyone!