The Journey to Find Mimir

Chapter Thirty-Nine: All Tangled Up

After jumping off a hundred foot tall cliff into a raging river, crossing into Midgard was the easiest thing ever. Hearthstone and I walked for a couple steps through the hole in the tree. We found ourselves in a large bush, facing a little clearing. Brokkr was right – the human realm was simply Jotunheim without all the snow.

Huge lush trees towered over us, creating a cavern ceiling of branches, pine needles, and glowing green leaves. Instead of snow on the ground, a thriving forest floor of ferns and clover sprouted, like something out of an Interworld History textbook. The rest of the place looked ordinary enough. A little picnic bench sat next to a huge, fallen redwood. To the right was a little building, probably a bathroom. The familiar rumble of the Vimur River sounded nearby. The only problem...

No clouds. Blinding pools of sunshine scattered across the forest floor, like pools of lava.

Hearthstone immediately darted out from the bush and into the biggest splotch of sunshine. He ripped off his hat and tipped his head towards the light, grinning slightly. I stepped away, the cold of Jotunheim at my back while I stayed in the safety of the shadows.

"I thought it would be darker," I mumbled to myself.

I began to sweat. This was the first time I had ever seen a sun. In Nidavellir, there is mossglow: faint, soft, and safe. But a sun? Nope. Zilch. Nada. If Nidavellir had a sun, there would be no dwarves. (Only a fantastic statue garden!) I looked at the closest sunbeam, just barely the size of my hand, and I imagined getting completely petrified. I swallowed nervously. Getting petrified is already dangerous. But here, in Midgard, it could be deadly. I was glad to hear that the Vimur River was nearby, in case Hearthstone needed to roll me in.

I looked at Hearthstone and began to blush. Getting petrified in front of him somehow seemed more embarrassing. Probably because he was unphased and relaxed, looking macho in the pool of deadly sun. He caught me looking and gave a little wave. I waved back, trying hard not to look terrified.

I couldn't help but notice how much healthier he looked already. The sunshine painted Hearthstone gold. His pale, green-tinged winter skin was slowly looking pinker, healthier. His cheeks were rosy. When he gave me a small, sheepish smile, I could have sworn his eyes were glowing.

I was struck by a new feeling I couldn't place. For me, the Midgard sun had always been synonymous with words like dangerous and bad. But watching a happy, healthy and relaxed Hearthstone gave me a very small, teeny tiny, miniscule appreciation for it.

Sun boy, I signed to him.

His grin was so bright, I had to squint.

Come here, Hearthstone signed. He was joking, but my right foot almost stepped out of the shadows to join him. Thankfully, I stayed put.

No P-E-T-R-I-F-I-C-A-T-I-O-N for me, please, I replied.

Hearthstone nodded. He closed his eyes and continued to bask in the light.

We can wait until the sun is gone, Hearthstone signed. Do not worry. We have plenty of time today.

Which is exactly what we did. I sat and waited. Hearthstone sat and waited, twenty feet away, eyes closed. There wasn't much to do, but it was pretty peaceful. Birds chirped in the branches. A young couple had a late lunch at the picnic benches; a mom and daughter stopped to use the restroom. Cars could be heard zooming along a nearby road. While I sat, I ran through the plan.

William's Grove. (Check.)

The town, Myers Flat.

Behind the wooden Robinson sign.