The Day the World Went Loki (8 page)

The Valkyries halted their steeds in the middle of the courtyard. They dismounted and dragged Greg and Lewis on to their feet. The boys were untied, but two of the Valkyries gripped them tightly as their chief led the way into the keep. The doors opened before them, admitting them to a stone hall lit by flickering torches, which ended at the foot of a wide, granite stairway.

They stumbled up the steps and down a long passage decorated with carved images of dragons, snakes and club-wielding giants. A wooden door painted with flames swung open to reveal a spacious, well-lit chamber with a vaulted ceiling.

The walls were decorated with swords, spears and animal skins, except for the back wall, over which hung a russet curtain. The floor was covered in rugs patterned with red and orange flames. A man sat at a desk in the middle of the room. He rose from his chair and ambled towards them.

He wore a green suit and scarlet shirt with a black tie. A bright yellow handkerchief protruded from his
breast pocket. His long hair was a blazing red, shot through with gold, and swept back from his lean, wily face. A small beard tapered out from his chin and his welcoming grin exposed two rows of sharp white teeth.

At a signal from the man in the green suit, the Valkyries released their captives and took up position by the door.

“Come on in, boys,” the man greeted them. “Don’t be shy. I’ve been waiting a long time to meet you. All day in fact.”

As Greg and Lewis drew closer, he reached back to his desk and flipped open a box of cigars, selecting one.

“You’re Lucas Oberon Key,” said Lewis. “Or should I say, Loki, the god of mischief.”

The man in green chuckled. “Guilty as charged.” He tipped the cigar back and forth between his fingers. “I usually am.”

Greg scowled. “So you’re behind all this.”

“Me?” Loki retorted, innocently laying a hand over his heart. “All I did was write the book. It was the two of you who unleashed the magic by saying the rhyme.”

“So it only works if two people recite it,” said Lewis.

Loki nodded. “It’s one of the safety features of really big magic. One idiot can’t stir up this sort of mayhem by himself. He has to persuade another idiot to help him.”

“You’d better watch who you’re insulting, Loki,” Greg bristled.

“Oh, I am grateful to you boys,” said the god of mischief. “Never doubt that for a moment.”

“Then why don’t you let us go?” Lewis asked.

Loki gave him a sly look. “I never repay a favour. It would be bad for my image. After a couple of millennia out of the picture, that’s something I have to work on.”

“For a god, you don’t look like much,” Greg told him.

“I never was a god, in the strict sense of the word,” Loki corrected him. “I was a fire giant by birth, not one of the Aesir, like Odin and the rest. I was sort of an adopted god, I suppose. And believe me, the rest of them gave me some stick about that! Why do you think I was so peeved all the time?”

“But you can do magic, can’t you?” Lewis asked.

“My powers aren’t what they were, but I still have a few tricks up my sleeve.” A small flame sprouted from the end of Loki’s finger and he used it to light his cigar. He drew in the smoke deeply, expelling it through his nostrils as a thin, sulfurous vapour.

“I bet you couldn’t even light that cigar without a match if it wasn’t your special day,” Lewis surmised.

Loki exhaled a smoke ring and raised an eyebrow. “You’re a pretty smart kid. Yes, as men became less dependent on us gods, it got to the point where we
each had to settle for one day when we could come down and meddle in their affairs. On his day Odin would spread wisdom. Thor would make a lot of thunder, so that was a good day to stay indoors. Me, I’d sneak around playing little tricks and working mischief. It was hilarious. Then when I started pulling pranks on the other Aesir, they got mad and had my day yanked out of the calendar.

“Odin, in his supposed wisdom, exiled me, and I wandered the earth for centuries, immortal but powerless, waiting for my chance to make a comeback. During that time the Aesir must have dozed off, or their power just drained away, so you don’t hear much out of them any more. Me, I managed to scrape a living gambling, conjuring, selling used cars, that kind of thing. But I still had a hankering for the good old days. That’s why I wrote that book.”

“The Folklore of Time,”
said Lewis. “It could do with an index.”

“It was meant to be a mess, so it wouldn’t attract too much attention,” Loki explained, “so that nobody would realise its true purpose. The Lokiday rhyme was the only part that counted. I had to sneak it in somewhere where none of the other gods would notice, just in case they were snooping around. Then all I needed was for somebody to come along who wanted the spell to be
true so much that he could make it work. You know, somebody gormless enough to believe in that sort of balderdash.”

“You need to watch your mouth, Loki,” Greg scowled.

“Kid, I’ve insulted better and wiser men than you. That’s part of my job description.”

“So when did you get to town?” Lewis asked. “Were you here yesterday?”

Loki shook his head and took a puff on his cigar.

“When the spell started to take effect it sucked me right here, to the centre of things. It’s kind of a shame, because at the time I was in Las Vegas sitting on a straight flush. To be honest, it’s been so long since I wrote that book, I’d pretty much forgotten about it. I was hardly even aware of my true nature any more. But when I felt the magic pulling at me, it all came rushing back and I knew exactly what was happening.”

“I don’t get it,” said Greg. “How does a cheap conman like you pull off something this big?”

Loki’s mouth twitched irritably at the insult. “The way I figure it is this,” he said: “every week on Lokiday, a little bit of magic used to leak into the world, just enough to cause a few laughs. Now, when there was no more Lokiday, there was no place for the magic to go, so for centuries it’s been building up and building up,
like water behind a dam.”

“And now it’s all burst out at once,” said Lewis.

Loki leaned back against his desk and blew a plume of smoke at the vaulted ceiling. “Bingo, kid. Pretty spectacular, isn’t it? For now it’s just this little town of yours that’s been transformed, but the magic is spreading even as we speak. Pretty soon it will be Lokiday all over the world.”

“Only if we let you get away with it,” Greg warned him.

Loki laughed. “And how are you going to stop me?”

Greg sputtered angrily. “We started this thing and we’ll find a way to finish it. Won’t we, Lewis?”

Lewis felt his stomach sink. Loki seemed so sure of himself; he didn’t see how they could beat him. “I suppose maybe… maybe…” he stammered, “maybe we could… you know…”

Suddenly his eyes grew wide as he spotted a large book with a mottled cover on the desk behind Loki. Aunt Vivien’s cookbook.

“I admit you boys sparked all this off,” said Loki, “and whatever was going on in your heads at the time influenced how things turned out. What’s more, you haven’t been changed by the spell. I hadn’t counted on that.”

Greg noticed that Lewis was shuffling across the
floor, trying to edge his way around Loki, and when his eyes lighted on the book, he understood why.

“Don’t think we’re finished yet,” he asserted loudly, distracting the Viking god’s attention. “This is our town and we’re not letting you turn it into your own private play park. Like Shakespeare says, ‘Tomorrow is another day.’”

“I think you’re getting your quotes mixed up,” Loki smirked. “Besides, tomorrow isn’t coming, thanks to this.”

He reached back and snatched up the book, just as Lewis made a grab for it. Loki flicked some ash from his cigar and it exploded in a plume of smoke right at Lewis’ feet, sending him scurrying back to Greg’s side.

“So it
was
you who used Aunt Vivien’s book to stop time,” Greg accused.

“All true,” Loki said, casually flipping through the yellow pages. “My magic powers may be rusty, but I could smell this thing a mile away, wafting sorcery through the air like an old cheese gone bad. There’s stuff in here even I’d be afraid to try.”

“It’s just irresponsible, tampering with time like this,” Lewis objected. “You could be endangering the whole universe.” Loki waved his cigar around airily. “That’s just part of the fun.”

“But it’s chaos out there,” said Lewis. “What’s going
to become of everybody if this madness continues?”

“Serious-minded tyke, isn’t he?” Loki commented, giving Greg a playful wink.

“Why don’t you swallow that cigar and choke on it?” Greg growled.

Loki shook his head and tutted.

“You know, you boys don’t really fit in. I’m going to have to do something about that. This is my day, and on my day everything goes the way I want it to. Call me a control freak if you like, but I’ll have to make an adjustment where you’re concerned.”

“What about Aunt Vivien?” Lewis demanded. “What have you done with her?”

“I did have to string her along for a while,” Loki admitted, “in order to get my hands on the book and find the right spell. If you think my book’s badly organised, you should try finding your way around this.” He waved the book of spells then tossed it down on the desk.

“Sooking up to Aunt Vivien is sinking pretty low,” Greg told him, “even for a creep like you.”

Loki shrugged. “You do what you have to do.”

“Where is she now?” Lewis asked.

“Relax. Pretty soon you’re going to be neighbours. You’ll have adjoining cells. Is that cosy or what?”

He gestured to the Valkyries. “Girls, show our guests to their quarters.”

The warrior women marched forward and seized the boys by their arms.

“This place has got great dungeons,” Loki told them with relish. “I’m not saying you’ll love them, but you’ll have to admit they have the right air of hopelessness.”

“How long do you plan on keeping us here?” Greg demanded.

“Not long,” Loki answered. “I’m having a few storm giants over for dinner later. They’ve been out of the scene for a long time and I expect they’ll be fairly peckish.”

“You had to ask!” Lewis moaned.

“You’d better watch out,” Greg threatened. “There isn’t a prison made that can hold us.”

Loki dismissed them with a contemptuous wave and the Valkyries dragged them away.

“What did you say that for?” Lewis asked.

“Why not?” Greg retorted. “We may as well go out with style.”

They were manhandled along a twisting maze of passages and stairways to a spiral of stone steps leading deep beneath the castle. Even the torches illuminating this underground prison seemed shrunken and wan, as if they, too, were infected with the dreariness of the place.

Shona pulled open the thick wooden door of the
nearest cell and the two boys were pitched headlong inside. They landed flat on their faces in a heap of dirty straw.

“Relax!” Greg whispered. “Did you see that rusty old lock? With my Swiss army knife I can pick my way through it in seconds.”

Before Lewis could respond, they were dragged roughly to their feet and manacled to the wall. When Greg yanked at his chains, he discovered they were securely fastened.

Shona treated them to a look of utter contempt. “Even this pigsty is too good for the likes of you,” she sneered.

She slammed the door shut and they heard a key being turned in the lock.

“Thanks for the thought!” Greg shouted after her.

Lewis looked around the grimy, dank cell. The only light came through a small grille in the ceiling that admitted a faint trickle of torchlight from somewhere above. He thought he could see something rat-like twitching its snout in a far corner. He was glad the place wasn’t well enough lit to reveal its full horror.

He turned to Greg. “What now, Houdini?”

“We have to get out of here,” Greg said, oblivious to the sarcasm. “We need to get these chains off, open the door – and believe me, that part will be easy – grab
the book and break out of this dump before Loki can catch us.”

His brow furrowed in concentration. “Once we’re through the door, there may be a guard outside. In that case, you go for his legs and trip him up and I’ll take care of the rest. I’ll put on his uniform and we can pretend you’re a prisoner I’m escorting to another part of the castle. We already know the way to Loki’s office. We hide outside and when he leaves, we sneak in and snatch the book. After that, we get down to the courtyard and grab a couple of those roadsteeds. Then we’re gone.”

“Should we concentrate on the first part for now?” Lewis suggested, rattling his chains.

“That’s one of your biggest problems,” Greg told him. “You never plan ahead. Everything is short term with you.”

Lewis was resigning himself to a lecture, when the situation suddenly took a brighter turn. “I think I know how we can get loose,” he announced.

“How?” Greg asked, following his brother’s gaze. He groaned out loud.

Lindsay was hovering a metre off the floor with something that looked like a big star-shaped lollipop in her hand.

“Do we really want to be rescued this badly?” Greg asked out of the side of his mouth.

“Greg, have you noticed how much trouble you get into when I’m not around?” Lindsay asked as she floated towards them. “Doesn’t that tell you something?”

Greg grimaced. Before he could say anything that might drive Lindsay away, Lewis interrupted. “What’s that you’ve got, Lindsay?” he asked. At second glance, it was a slender shaft of wood topped by a crystal-blue star.

Lindsay turned her wide, bespectacled eyes upon him as though she were surprised to see him there.

“It’s a magic wand,” she replied, “and believe me, I had to call in a few favours to get it.”

“So what does it do?” Greg asked sullenly. “Will it make us fly?”

“Oh, Greg, don’t be so silly,” Lindsay chided, batting her eyelashes. “What use would that be when you’re all chained up? No, it’s a wand of unlocking.”

“Unlocking?” Greg repeated with grudging interest.

Lindsay nodded vigorously. “Yes, and you wouldn’t believe how hard it was to come by,” she confided. “I had to ask around a lot of fairies down at the magic ring, and Brenda McCracken made this big deal about
what did I want it for, and who was I taking it to. So I told her that at least nobody had ever seen me dancing with the leprechauns on midsummer’s eve…”

“Unlocking, eh?” Greg said again. “How does it work?”

“Oh, that part’s easy.” Lindsay smiled.

She gently tapped each of Greg’s manacles with the wand. They instantly popped open and fell from his wrists.

“Nice trick,” Greg said, stepping away from the wall.

“It’s fully charged and can unlock just about anything,” Lindsay enthused.

“That sounds like a handy thing to have,” Lewis voiced loudly.

“You’d better set him free,” Greg suggested, “before he gets cranky.”

Lindsay flitted over to Lewis and tapped his manacles with the end of the wand. The chains fell away and Lewis rubbed his wrists. “How did you know we were here?” he asked.

Lindsay made a face. “Sally Kettles saw you being carried off by the Valkyries when she was gossiping with some selkies down by the burn. Of course, she couldn’t wait to hurry back and start telling everybody that
Lindsay’s boyfriend
was out riding with some blonde.”

“What do you mean
Lindsay’s boyfriend?”
Greg objected.

“You know how fairies like to tease,” Lindsay explained with a toss of her head. “Of course, some of them
can see
into the future,” she added wistfully.

“Maybe we should focus on getting out of here,” Lewis snapped, quickly changing the subject.

Greg nodded and reached into his pocket for his Swiss army knife. Before he could decide which attachment to use as a lock pick, Lindsay floated over to the door and tapped the lock with her wand.

“You didn’t need to do that,” he told her peevishly as the door swung open. “I was all set to take care of it myself.”

Shoving the knife back into his pocket, he snatched the wand from Lindsay’s hand. “You’d better let me take care of this.”

Lindsay pouted and spun about in the air.

“Lindsay!” Lewis said, before she could disappear. “Greg’s just worried that this could be dangerous, so he needs to go first.”

“All right,” Lindsay conceded. “But there was no need to be so rude.”

Lewis gave Greg a prod.

“Sorry, erm, Lindsay,” Greg said, choking on the words. “I’m a little tense.”

Lindsay flashed him a forgiving smile. “Just be careful with the wand, Greg,” she cautioned.

Greg motioned the others to stay back while he poked his head out into the passage. “No sign of any guards,” he reported.

“You just can’t get good help,” Lindsay commented. “Trolls are so unreliable.”

Together they stepped outside and Greg started for the stairs.

“Greg!” Lewis said.

Greg looked back. “Now what?”

“What about Aunt Vivien?”

“What
about
Aunt Vivien?”

“We have to rescue her,” Lewis reminded him. “Loki said she was in the cell next door.”

Greg came back and warily eyed the door of the adjacent cell. “Do we have to?”

“You heard what Loki said. Even he couldn’t figure out the book without her help.”

“All right,” Greg admitted. “But can you even imagine what kind of a monster she’s going to be? Mum is an ogre and that’s bad enough. Is there anything horrible enough for Aunt Vivien to be?”

“I admit it’s a risk,” Lewis admitted. “But whatever she’s turned into, don’t say anything to offend her. We need her help.”

Greg edged closer to the door of the cell and grasped the wand tightly between sweaty fingers. “How does
this thing work?” he muttered.

“You just give the lock a light tap,” Lindsay told him, gesturing with her hand to show him how.

“I knew that,” Greg snapped. “I don’t need an instruction manual.”

Lindsay let out an affronted “Ooh!” and disappeared in a shimmer of light.

Greg raised the wand and licked his lips, then froze as though his muscles were rebelling. “This is our last chance to walk away,” he warned Lewis.

Lewis glared at him. He shrugged. “Okay, okay. But remember, it’s Aunt Vivien in there. Expect mind-numbing horror.”

Greg gave the lock a hesitant tap and the door swung open with an ominous creak of its rusting hinges. They peered into the cell and saw… the very last thing they expected.

Aunt Vivien was exactly the same.

The ornately styled, dyed hair, the overly made-up face, the frighteningly floral dress: none of it showed any sign of having been affected by the Lokiday rhyme. The only difference was that instead of wreaking havoc in their kitchen, she was manacled to the wall in Loki’s dungeon.

“Well, it’s about time somebody got here!” Aunt Vivien declared haughtily.

Neither Greg nor Lewis had been able to move beyond the open doorway.

“I don’t understand,” Greg murmured. “Why is she still the same?”

“Think about it for a moment,” said Lewis. “Is there any way she could be scarier than she is normally?”

Greg shook his head.

“Are you two going to stand there all day?” Aunt Vivien asked shrilly. “You can’t just leave me here like this.”

“We could, you know,” Greg muttered between clenched teeth.

“Come on, you’d better set her free,” Lewis said. “Just think how much it will annoy Loki.”

“You’re right,” Greg agreed with relish. “That is a silver lining.”

He strode decisively across the cell and tapped Aunt Vivien’s manacles with the wand. They fell away and Aunt Vivien stepped forward, straightening her dress as she did so.

“I assume Lucas has thought the better of his little prank and sent you to release me,” she said tartly.

“Not exactly,” Lewis said. “We were his prisoners as well.”

Aunt Vivien tilted her head back and touched a hand tragically to her brow. “I knew it! He was only
after one thing. My book. That Beast!”

“I’m afraid that’s true,” Lewis said.

“Why did you go along with him in the first place?” Greg asked disgustedly. “He’s a total creep. Even you… I mean… you’re not exactly… but…”

His voice faded away before Aunt Vivien’s withering stare.

“He was very charming at first,” she said coldly, “but then men are like that, aren’t they?”

“If you say so,” Greg mumbled.

Lindsay popped into existence in their midst and beamed at Aunt Vivien, who did not return the smile.

“A fairy,” Aunt Vivien said disapprovingly. “I never thought that Adele’s boys would take up with fairies.”

“She’s just a friend,” Greg stated with emphasis.

“A very good friend,” Lewis added quickly. “Without her we’d all still be in chains.”

Aunt Vivien sniffed. “That’s highly commendable, I’m sure. But I warn you, young lady: I don’t hold with flitting about aimlessly from place to place, changing the colour of people’s flowers. And isn’t that dress a little skimpy for this time of year?”

“If you read
Pixipolitan
magazine, you’d know this is the latest fashion,” Lindsay retorted.

“We don’t have time for this right now,” Lewis interrupted urgently. “We have to get the book back.”

“Indeed we do!” Aunt Vivien affirmed. “Who knows what damage that cad might cause with it?”

“He’s already causing damage,” Lewis told her. “He’s brought time to a standstill.”

Aunt Vivien looked puzzled. “Why should he want to do that?”

“Maybe he likes daytime TV,” Greg grunted.

Lewis gave him a warning look. “Aunt Vivien, do you know what day it is?” he asked.

“What a silly question,” Aunt Vivien chided. “It’s Lokiday, of course.”

“Of course. What day was it yesterday?”

“What do you mean
yesterday
?” Aunt Vivien stared at him as though he were an idiot.

“The day before today,” Lewis pressed her. “Don’t you remember Thursday?”

Aunt Vivien shook her head. “Really, I don’t know what’s wrong with you young people today. How do you get these silly notions into your heads?”

Greg leaned close to Lewis’ ear and muttered, “She looks the same, but her head is messed up just like everyone else’s.”

Turning to Aunt Vivien, he said, “Come on, let’s get your book back from Loki.”

Aunt Vivien humphed. “When I see him I shall give That Beast a good piece of my mind, you mark my
words. There was a boy from Tillicoultry I once had to give a good talking to…”

“Let’s get going,” Greg interrupted.

“Right,” Lewis agreed. “We need to stay really quiet.” He looked at his three companions and shook his head. “At least as quiet as we can manage.”

Greg stuck the magic wand into his belt and stepped out of the cell. He led the little party up the stairway to a stout wooden door with a metal grille set into it at head height. Greg turned to the others and touched a finger to his lips.

A loud rumbling sound was coming from the passage beyond. When he pressed his face to the grille, Greg could see out of the corner of his eye a troll seated upon a stool that looked far too flimsy to support him. The troll wore a metal breastplate and helmet and was leaning back against the wall with his eyes shut. The noise they could hear was his snoring.

A tap of the wand unlocked the door and they all moved carefully out into the passage. All except Lindsay. She blinked out of sight and materialised directly over their heads as they tiptoed past the troll. Startled by her sudden appearance, Greg jumped back and collided with Lewis, who collided in turn with Aunt Vivien.

Aunt Vivien gave a yelp and grabbed something to stop herself falling over – the troll’s bulbous nose.

As soon as she saw what she’d done she yanked her hand away, but it was too late. The troll cracked open two piggy eyes and heaved himself to his feet, snatching up a huge club that was propped against the wall at his side.

Everyone froze on the spot.

The troll stood as still as any of them, his brow furrowed as he pondered what he was supposed to do in a situation like this. Eventually he worked it out and bellowed, “Halt!” with enough force to loosen a few flakes of plaster from the ceiling.

Greg, Lewis and Lindsay all recoiled. Lewis wondered if the four of them could bring the creature down without getting their skulls split open.

Aunt Vivien stepped squarely in the troll’s way and wagged a finger at him.

“I don’t think Lucas will be very pleased to learn that his guards take their duty so lightly!” she shrilled right in the troll’s face. “I hardly call sitting there snoring an example of military discipline!”

The troll opened his mouth to speak but Aunt Vivien silenced him with a poke in the chest.

“You call yourself a guard? Suppose there had been some really dangerous prisoners locked in the dungeon? They’d be loose in the castle now, causing all manner of mayhem, and whose fault would it be?
Yours, young man, and nobody else’s!”

The troll backed off, his face a contorted mask of fear, but Aunt Vivien pursued him mercilessly. Greg and Lewis could feel her shrewish voice grating so painfully at their own ears, they almost felt sorry for the dull creature.

The troll felt behind him for the wall, but found only emptiness. Too late he realised he had backed onto the open stairway. With a snort of alarm he dropped his club and went tumbling backwards. His helmet clanged off the stone steps as he bounced nose over tail all the way down to the dungeons.

“I don’t know what Lucas expects, employing such riff-raff,” Aunt Vivien sniffed. She picked up the fallen club and a steely look came into her eye. “Let’s pay a call on him and see what he has to say for himself.”