The Journey to Find Mimir

Chapter Nineteen: Fits Like a Weird House That's Missing a Wall

We spent the first few minutes in Jotunheim recapping our Folkvanger side trip and putting on more warm clothes alongside the Vimur River. It turns out I had forgotten to tell Hearthstone that my mother was Freya, the goddess of love, fertility, warfare, magic and cats. The two of us were passing the notebook back and forth. After Freya turned off all the sound in her palace, I made a vow to sign to Hearthstone as much as possible. Until I could do that fluently, I would try to write instead of speaking. 

While Hearthstone read my latest note, I pulled the red beanie onto his head and clicked on the light. 

Sorry I didn't tell you. I am not a fan of my mother, and she is not a fan of me. That is only the second time I have ever met her. The first time was on my 16th birthday, to see if I could craft as well as my dad. I couldn't. She just wants to use and control me. My dad was my real family. She is not.

Although Hearthstone had been irritated with Freya, he still looked a bit flustered from our encounter with her. I knew why. Even though I had only met my mom twice now, I knew most of her tricks from the Interworld History books. Her falcon-feathered cloak turned any wearer into a falcon. When she cried, tears were made of glittering red gold stones (a very valuable material in Nidavellir). And lastly, I knew she could change her physical form to look just like your one true love. When I watched Hearthstone's weird reaction to my mom's power surge, I knew that this is what she had done. I took the pen.

Who is she? I wrote. 

Hearthstone furrowed his eyebrows.

Who? he asked, looking around. 

The girl my mom turned into back at the palace.

Hearthstone looked at me quizzically, so I explained further.

Freya can make herself look like your soulmate. I couldn't see who she turned into, but I could tell that's what she did back to you.

Hearthstone's entire face went pink -- all the way to the tips of his ears. I cracked a smile.

Who is she? You can tell me. I don't know anyone from Alfheim, so your secret is safe with me. Is it your sprite friend? That's the only girl you've mentioned.

Hearthstone shook his head no. Fumbling hands took the pen. 

Inge is just a friend. 

I pointed at the phrase, just a friend, while waggling my eyebrows. Hearthstone rolled his eyes. 

Yes, "just a friend". She has been in love with me since we were kids, but I am not interested. 

"Oh," I said. I gave him some side-eye as I took the pen.

Then who is this mystery lover?

Hearthstone closed the notepad shut, a clear sign of, I'm done! The pink in his cheeks had faded, but not entirely. He gestured to the river.

Let's go, he signed, putting on his backpack. 

"Scaredy cat!" I said, but Hearthstone was already moving downhill and fast. I grabbed my pack and struggled to catch up.

If our hike hadn't been through the treacherous world of giants, then it might have been pleasant. With the river on our right, Hearthstone and I headed down a steep hill towards the floor of the valley. The Vimur River went straight through a forest of gorgeous trees. Their dark branches created a canopy of protection from the powdered snowfall sprinkling from white, Jotunheimen clouds that covered the sky. It was odd to see a sky without the dark dome of stalactites on the cavern ceiling.