The Journey to Find Mimir

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Treehouses are No Longer Cool. They are Freezing.

The sun set quickly. Down below, I watched Hearthstone put up camp. I wished for the warmness of the tent and our shared sleeping bag as the temperature dropped. The rest of the little room was mostly empty, but I took inventory of the items I could find: a shoelace, a metal cup, a butterknife, and three socks. In the corner I found a vintage-looking, weather-beaten book. It was titled, The Northeastern Jotunheim Travel Guide 1948: Demigod Tips and Tricks to Surviving Giants. The cover had a large, brown stain on the front. I did not touch it.

Thankfully, there was also a sleeping bag in the treehouse. It seemed fairly new -- not that I had the option to be picky. As I zipped myself inside, the thoughts I had been avoiding all evening began to take shape. 

Who was Hearthstone? I began to make a list of everything I had found out about him in the last 24 hours. His dad was Alderman Alderman, House of Alderman. His little brother was dead. A history book of Alfheim talked about him and his family. And about how his brother died. My heart plummeted as I remembered what the giant said. 

Is there a chance that Hearthstone actually...?

A wave of shame washed over me. No. Something in my gut told me that this couldn't be true. Sure, he was reserved. But when I saw him smile? That wasn't the face of someone who could kill another person.

I rolled onto my back and looked at the wooden ceiling. I thought about how I had gotten myself into this whole, Jotunheimen mess. Why hadn't I just stayed in Nidavellir? Being judged by the other dwarves was way less life threatening than dealing with hungry giants. But after besting Ingrida, Orick and Gert, a flicker of hope burned inside of me. Hearthstone may not be the strongest sorcerer, but maybe he could work something out to kill the warthog.

The night went on. Old memories took over. Dad stood in the doorway for the last time, wrapped in the green cloak. A purple explosion rocked Nabbi's tavern. The sound of crackling electricity as Hearthstone fell from the sky. Náinn's goodbye hug. Hearthstone's eyerolls and smirks. Last night, falling asleep alongside him...

I felt myself being lifted into the air. I looked to my right and laughed. I was flying with dad. His eyes were shining. His dark curly hair and beard flapped in the wind. I grinned at him. Then I blinked.

Dad was gone. Freya was in his place. Her golden hair rippled behind her like a thousand silky ribbons. She wore her falcon-feathered cloak. I scowled. 

What do you want? I called. 

Freya opened her mouth, but no words came out -- only the chattering sound of a falcon call. 

I want Bilì, I called. I want my dad. 

Freya continued to chirp and chatter. The noise went on and on. I covered my ears but could still hear it. I began to twist and turn in the air. A pair of giant, invisible hands were squeezing me. The chatter was getting louder. 

"Hey, get off!"

I rolled over. Freya was gone, but the falcon call continued.

"Git! Git! I'm busy!"

The hands were tightening over me. The hands were sweaty--

I opened my eyes. I was no longer in sky with my parents. I wasn't even in the treehouse. I was cupped in the hands of a giant. We were walking towards the middle of the field. Above the shepherd's head, a falcon swirled and pecked at his face, like an annoying gnat. 

"Stop that!" he roared. He sucked in a huge breath, then blew a strong stream of air at the bird. The falcon fluttered off. The giant harrumphed. 

"Dumb bird," he grumbled. He looked down and saw I was awake. His face split into a grin. "Good morning, sleepy smalling. Ready for a fun day?"

I swallowed hard. 

"W-where are we going?" I asked. 

Maybe if he eats me now, Hearthstone will have enough time to escape.

"Not far. In fact, we're here."

He put me down in the middle of the field. I could still see the treehouse from where I stood. Confused and frightened, I turned to him.

"What do you want?"

"Nothing!" the giant said, too fast. "Just waiting for the warthog. He'll be here in a snap!" 

The giant snapped his fingers together. At the same time, a strange sensation poured down my body. It felt like a cool bucket of invisible sludge had been dumped over my head. The feeling dripped all the way down to my toes. I shivered in the morning sun. 

"What was that?" I asked, inspecting my arms and legs. They looked normal to me.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" The giant's face had split into the biggest grin. "Why don't you run along and tell your sorcerer friend that the warthog will be here soon?"

I stayed in place. Something was wrong. I knew this was a trap, but I couldn't figure out how. 

The giant's face twisted impatiently. 

"GO!" he roared, and I jumped into action. 

I bolted from the meadow and ran straight for Hearthstone's tent. The icy sensation was still wrapped around me. I shivered. What was wrong? I couldn't tell. Maybe Hearthstone would know. 

I ran straight up to the tent. I tried to open the door, but there was something wrong with my hands. It was as if my fingers wouldn't split apart. At that same moment, I also noticed there was something sort of blurry masses extending from each of my cheeks. Every time my eyes tried to focus on one, the blob disappeared entirely. I really started to panic.

"Hearthstone!" I yelled. He couldn't hear me. I cursed. I began pounding on the tent door with my bound hands. "Hearthstone, open up!"

The giant laughed. He took his huge boot and began pounding it into the meadow. The ground shook like a powerful earthquake. Somewhere in the distance, I heard a tree slam into the ground. 

"That should help you wake your friend!" he called. 

I was not reassured by his eagerness to assist me. Finally, Hearthstone opened the tent. He was still in his pajamas. His eyes were bleary from sleep and his hair stood straight up on one side. I was so happy to see him, I barely registered the look of shock and horror on his face.

I was just about sign at him when he shoved me to the ground. He jumped out of the tent, ran twenty feet away, then stopped. I lay there, feeling hurt and shocked. 

"Hearthstone?" I asked. "What wrong?"

Hearthstone, in his pajamas and snowboots, pulled out his pouch of runestones from his pocket. His hand reached into the bag, quickly digging for one. 

Maybe there was some rune to help us escape?  I wondered. But that is the case, then why did he push me? 

I tried to get his attention, but he just backed up, keeping a wide berth from me. Finally, he found the runestone he wanted. He casted it in a spray of light. 

He fell to his knees, then wobbled back up to his feet, using a low-hanging tree branch for support. I was impressed. This was the first time I had seen him use a runestone and not immediately passed out. Although proud, I was confused by his choice of rune magic. Why had he chosen to materialize a pile of spears? The giant was much too big for us to throw the spears at. Hearthstone turned and looked at me. Then, he looked up towards the treehouse. Why bother looking up to where I had been? Hello! I'm standing right here!

Hearthstone picked up the spear. He bounced the weapon between his two hands, getting a feel for the weight. He turned to me. A determined look settled on his face. 

Then, he did something I would have never expected.

With all his might, Hearthstone hurtled the spear directly at me.