“Yes, they’re called giants for a reason. In the morning, the giant woke up, and turns out, his snoring was the reason for all the rumbling and earthquakes. Skrymir offered to let Thor and company travel with him, but the next night he kept everyone up with his snoring, so Thor tried to hit him over the head with his hammer. Each time, the giant woke and asked if it was an acorn or leaf that fell on his head.”
Hugo’s eyes bulged. “Thor hit him with Mjolnir, and it didn’t destroy him? I thought his hammer was powerful?”
“It is, but the giant used magic.”
Now Hugo was really confused. “The giants have magic?”
Oakes nodded. “A strange and ancient magic they call on to enchant people and confuse them. Skrymir was actually redirecting the blows, which were so hard they created entire new valleys.”
“So what happened?”
“The next day Skrymir bade them farewell, and Thor and company made their way to the ice kingdom, where they were greeted by a band of giants in a great hall. The giants’ king, Utgard-Loki, welcomed them but said only those that could prove they were best at some sort of skill could stay. Loki went first, bragging he could eat more than any other creature.”
“Did he win?”
Oakes laughed, turning the page and pointing at a drawing of a large man devouring a wooden platter. “He finished his plate but lost to a giant who ate not only all the food but the platter as well. Thialfi went next. He was known to be the fastest runner in the land.” Oakes turned to the next page, and Hugo saw a picture of a youth gasping as a giant ran past. “Three times he ran the race, and three times he narrowly lost.”
“Surely Thor won his contest,” Hugo said.
“That’s where it gets tricky.” Oakes turned the page and showed a drawing of Thor holding a large drinking horn. “Thor agreed to a drinking contest, and they filled a horn with ale, but even with three large quaffs, he couldn’t finish it. So Utgard-Loki offered him something even easier—to lift a cat off the ground.”
“Is this a joke?” Hugo asked. “How can a god as strong as Thor not be able to lift a cat?”
“Thor was only able to lift one paw.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You will. So then Utgard-Loki offered to let Thor wrestle with an old woman, but as hard as he tried, Thor couldn’t throw her.”
“He wasn’t able to throw an old woman? How is that possible?”
Oakes snapped the book shut. “Because Utgard-Loki tricked Thor. He disguised himself as the giant Skrymir and learned their weaknesses, then used his magical enchantments to best them. You see, Loki went up against Logi, which is the name for fire, and fire consumes everything. And Thialfi went up against Hugi, which is another name for thought. He was racing against Utgard-Loki’s very thoughts, and nothing is faster than the speed of thought.”
“And Thor?”
“The end of the horn was attached to the sea, so each time he drank, he was literally draining the sea and lowering the tides. The cat he lifted was actually Jormungand, the Midgard Serpent. He nearly dragged it out of its prison.”
Hugo was fascinated. “Who was the old woman?”
“That was Elli, old age itself. No one can fight old age. It always wins in the end. Utgard-Loki finally confessed all of this to Thor, which of course made Thor angry—so much so that he went for his hammer, only to find that Utgard-Loki and his hall had vanished.”
“That’s an amazing story,” Hugo said. “But how does it help?”
“Thor has a long memory. He won’t have forgotten his humiliation. He might be willing to hand over his hammer temporarily for information on where Utgard-Loki is.”
“Thank you, Professor,” Hugo said. “I don’t suppose you know how to find this Utgard-Loki’s castle.”
Oakes tapped his nose. “It’s not on any map, but I’m sure a resourceful boy could find a way.”
Chapter 7
Abigail hurried out of the gate and into the swamps. It was past supper now—the other girls had gone to their rooms to finish their studies—but Abigail had no intention of doing schoolwork. She would probably never be allowed back in class again, not once she helped put an end to this war. She might as well make the most of her last night, and that meant finding a way to warn Big Mama.
It had been a few months since Abigail had seen the big creature, but she was certain the Omera would still come if she called to it. They had shared a deep connection ever since Abigail had saved her hatchling.
The swamps would be dark and filled with too many slithering creatures for her taste, so she took the path toward Baba Nana’s house on the edge of town. It had a nice clearing that Big Mama had come to before. The Omera would be safe there, away from prying eyes, long enough for Abigail to give her the message.
Baba Nana had not been back to the shack since Endera’s mother had cursed her with a freezing spell that had left the old woman in a state of near death. She had been moved to the Tarkana Fortress, where Madame Vex cared for her with the help of Calla.
The door to Baba Nana’s shack hung half-open on its hinges, and there was no trace of smoke rising from the chimney. Abigail undid her cloak and put her fingers to her mouth, letting out a high-pitched whistle. It could take a while for Big Mama to answer, depending on how close she was. She sat down on the porch, thinking of all the things she needed to do before the morning. What did one pack to go visit Jotunheim? It was cold there, she remembered, but that was all she knew.
A snapping sound in the woods brought her head around. She stood, wondering if it was Big Mama. A small rathos ran across the clearing, and she relaxed. Then a shadow crossed the moon, and she looked up, a grin splitting her face.
Big Mama landed with a thump, blowing out a long snort of steam as she stalked toward Abigail, arching her wings up high.
“You came.” Abigail ran a hand over the pebbled skin of Big Mama’s snout. “How are the babies?”
Next to Big Mama, a sturdy figure with dazzling star-filled eyes landed. “Starfire! It’s you!” She threw her arms around the young Omera’s neck. “Look how big you are! You’ve grown three sizes.”
The young Omera tossed his head proudly.
“Big Mama, I’ve come to warn you,” Abigail said. “It’s not safe for you here.”
The Omera’s head whipped around to face the trees, and she growled low.
“What is it?”
Suddenly there were witches everywhere, dropping out of the trees and flinging nets over the creatures. Abigail got tangled up in the netting and fought to free herself.
The shreek-Omera they had created in class landed with a thud, Vertulious on its back. “Excellent work,” he said, an evil smile creasing his face.
Several of the witches carried torches, which cast flickering shadows around the clearing. Abigail made out at least a dozen witches holding down the edges of the nets as Big Mama tried to free herself. Next to his mother, Starfire squawked in fear.
“Tell her to calm down or else I’ll eliminate the younger one,” Vertulious said.
“No, leave them alone!” Abigail freed herself from the netting and attempted to fling herself at Vertulious, but he held her off with a stiff arm.