Rego stopped in front of a fat tree and knocked sharply on the trunk. A small knot slid to the side, and a whiskered face stared out. Then the knot slid closed, and a hidden door opened, spilling out light and welcome heat. Rego hurried inside. Abigail and Hugo followed, shutting the door behind them. They descended down a few short steps into an underground room, where a fire crackled in the small hearth. A pair of dwarfs sat on mushroom-shaped stools, while another stirred a pot hanging over the fire.
All three stopped to stare at the newcomers.
“Who’s that?” one of the dwarfs asked, eyeing them suspiciously from under bushy black brows. “And why’d you bring them here? We’re on a secret mission. They could be working for the giants.”
“Do they look like they work for the giants, Obie?” Rego tugged his boots off and warmed his toes by the fire. “That one says she’s a witch.” He jerked a thumb at Abigail.
The dwarfs gasped, drawing back. Abigail and Hugo took the opportunity to inch closer to the fire.
“Thanks for letting us stay here,” Hugo said.
“Stay here?” Bushy-Brows puffed. “No one said they could stay here. Rego, you’ve gone too far. If they find out—”
“They’re not going to find out unless you flap your trap,” Rego said.
“Find out what?” Hugo asked. “Maybe we can help.”
“Nothing!” they all said in unison.
“Well, it’s obviously something,” Hugo said.
In the silence that followed, Rego cleared his throat. “We haven’t even made proper introductions. Abigail, Hugo, that sourpuss over there is Obie.” He pointed at Bushy-Brows. “The ugly mug with the shaggy hair is Mullet.” Mullet raised his hand half-heartedly. “And our chef and host is Pipps over there. Pipps lives here year-round, though how he puts up with the cold is beyond me,” Rego grumbled.
Pipps was the cheeriest by far, with rosy cheeks and a twinkle in his eye. He waved a wooden spoon. “You children hungry?”
Hugo’s stomach rumbled loudly, and Pipps chuckled. “Sit, sit at the table. Rego, get them a bowl, and I’ll serve them some of my jackrabbit stew.”
Abigail took a seat on a hard stool, suddenly starving. She spooned a bite from the bowl Rego set before her, savoring the rich, meaty taste. Hugo did the same, and in a few short minutes, they’d cleared their plates.
“I see you like my cooking.” Pipps swooped their dishes up. “Put some meat on those bones before the giants devour you.” He chuckled again, and the others joined in.
“Ignore Pipps,” Rego said. “He likes to have himself a good laugh. So tell us why you’re really here.”
“Well,” Abigail said, “we’re curious to know more about giants and the ones that, um …”
“Hunt them,” Hugo added.
“Hunt them?” Rego’s brow went up. “There’s only one person fool enough to hunt a giant, and that’d be the god of thunder himself, Thor.”
“We’ve heard about Thor,” Abigail said. “It would be an honor to meet him. I don’t suppose you know where we can find him?”
“Find him?” Rego sputtered with laughter, and the others joined in. “You’re not serious, are you? Two children such as yourselves meeting the mighty god Thor? You’d have a better chance getting an audience with Odin.”
“I’ve already met Odin,” Abigail said haughtily. “I think Thor will speak to me. He was a friend of my father’s.”
Rego’s laughter died. “Then tell us, child, who was your father?”
“Aurvendil.”
The room grew silent.
Rego’s lips pursed. “Don’t lie to us, witchling. We know your kind. And you’re no descendant of Aurvendil the Brave.”
Abigail lifted off the emerald necklace she always wore and handed it to Hugo, then conjured up a ball of blue witchfire. “Do you see this? It’s witchfire. If you know anything about witches, you know it’s always green. But mine is blue. You know why? Because my father is a star. The morning star. The same one that used to be Aurvendil.”
The dwarfs stared at her, whispering among themselves.
“Any witch can conjure up strange magic,” Obie said.
“Obie’s right,” Mullet said from behind the shaggy fringe that covered his eyes. “Why should we believe you?”
Abigail sagged, letting her witchfire die. “You shouldn’t. It’s too fantastic. I met him once. So did Hugo.”
“He was really kind.” Hugo passed her necklace back to her. “He had golden hair, and he told Abigail to trust her heart as her guide.”
“No disrespect, but it’s a mite farfetched.” Rego twitched his whiskers. “How can a star descend from the sky?”
“How can Thor toss his big toe up and turn it into a star?” Abigail countered. “My mother used to walk along the shore, watching the stars. He said he fell in love with her.”
“Hold on,” Obie said. “There’s no witch that has a heart in their chest. It’s nothing but a cold stone.”
“No, my mother was different, or at least when she met him, she changed. He was allowed a few days away from being a star.” She fingered the pendant. “I’ve had to hide my magic with this sea emerald I got from an old sailor named Jasper.”
“You know Jasper?” Rego asked. “Well, why didn’t you say so?” The dwarf seemed to relax a bit.
Abigail leaned forward. “Then you’ll take us to see Thor?”
Rego hesitated. “Thor is rumored to be hunting boar in a nearby valley. I suppose it couldn’t hurt to pass by.”
“What about our … you know …” Mullet waggled his eyebrows. “Secret mission.”
“It’s as good as any direction to look for the fool.”
“Now see here, Rego.” Obie bristled. “We got our own business to take care of.”
Rego stared him down. “And we’ll take care of it, Obie, in due time. A little side trip won’t dent our cause.”
“What exactly are you doing here?” Hugo asked. “I mean, seeing a band of dwarfs in giants’ territory seems rather …”
“Odd?” Rego filled in. “You think we’re in over our heads?”
The others snickered at his joke.
Hugo smiled but pressed on. “You didn’t answer the question. Why are you here?”
The troupe fell silent, exchanging wary glances.
Rego tossed another log on the fire. “What you want with Thor is your business, and why we’re here, I reckon that’s our business.”
“And that’s fine,” Abigail said. “We don’t care what you want with the giants. We just want to find Thor and ask him for his—”
“Advice,” Hugo cut in. “You know, about how Abigail can remember her father.”
“Right. Advice,” Abigail said. “Any memories that he had.”
Rego looked between them and then grunted. “I don’t like it, but we’re not going to leave two children on their own, not in this dangerous land. You know what a giant looks like?”