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Authors: Francesca Simon

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BOOK: The Lost Gods
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Suddenly Heimdall stiffened.

‘A giantess approaches,' he shouted.

At the top of the stands, a helmeted warrior stood in a coat of chain mail, clutching a golden shield and holding aloft a sword and spear. The rising sun lit up the weapons, spiking dazzling rays of light around her like Valkyrie's wings.

‘I have sworn vengeance on my father Thjazi's murderers,' she roared. ‘I demand compensation to end my feud with the Gods.'

Freya's heart tightened. It was Skadi. She had rejoiced too soon.

Skadi, squeezed into her armour and with a helmet perched tightly upon her tangled,
frizzy green hair, stomped down from the top of the spectator stands to ground level where the Gods gathered. When she reached the bottom she threw aside her round shield, covered in red-beaked eagles with gold eyes, gnawing at a corpse. Freya recoiled. The same hideous warty face. The same, terrible squinting bloodshot eyes. The same long, curved, filthy nails. The same horrible dead fish stench. Skadi. Was there any creature alive who hated her more?

Thor raised his hammer.

Woden shook his head. ‘No,' he said. ‘Enough blood has been shed. We wish to be at peace now. Skadi comes for her rightful compensation.'

Freya's throat was dry. There would be no victory celebrations for her.

‘I made my terms clear,' said Skadi. ‘Where is my handsome husband?'

Freya jumped.

‘Husband?' said Woden.

Skadi looked at the shuffling Gods. Her gaze fixed on Snot.

She looked more closely at him and laughed her horrible laugh of screeching tyres. ‘Surely you weren't thinking that bear-breath berserker was a fit husband for
me
, Skadi, daughter of Thjazi, King of Giants?'

‘Say that again and I'll kill you,' growled Snot under his breath.

‘And what's
she
doing here?' Skadi pointed at Freya.

‘The Gods brought me as your compensation,' said Freya, shaking. She struggled to keep her voice steady.

‘You? Why would I want
you
, you little thief,' said Skadi.

‘Loki said you wanted … me in compensation for your father's death.'

‘You? What kind of lousy reparation would that be, for the death of a King!' screamed Skadi. ‘You? You?! A scrawny, whiny mortal like you? For what, fishing bait? To clean my snow shoes? What good would that do? Why
in Hel's name would I want you? Once I'd squished you, or hooked you for bait, where would I be?'

Freya felt as if a tiny bit of blue sky had suddenly emerged from the smothering clouds.

Was it possible that …

‘The Trickster said you wanted me,' whispered Freya.

‘NO!' howled Skadi. ‘I want PROPER compensation for my father's death.'

So Loki had lied. Why wasn't she surprised?

Roskva and Alfi gripped her tightly. Freya feared if they hadn't she would have fainted. Relief flooded her.

‘What do you want then?' asked Woden. ‘Gold?'

‘No,' said Skadi. She spat. ‘I have mounds of gold and piles of jewels. I have so much gold I could cover Thrymheim ten times over and still have storerooms bursting with gems. No gold.'

‘Then what will you take?'

‘I want a husband. It's lonely in my beautiful ice palace. My storm-home echoes with
loneliness.'

The Gods murmured quietly among themselves.

Then Woden spoke:

‘The feud between Gods and giants must end. Skadi has a right to compensation. You may choose your husband from among us, but only by his feet,' said Woden.

Skadi looked startled.

‘His feet?' said Skadi. ‘Why his feet? Couldn't I see his—'

‘Because that is my decree,' said Woden. ‘Do you want a husband or don't you?'

‘I do,' said Skadi. ‘Oh, I do.' She looked at the handsome Frey, and winked.

Frey didn't wink back. He actually looked a little green.

Frey is probably hoping his feet have cracked nails and bunions, thought Freya.

Skadi turned her back as the Gods assembled in a row, removing their boots and shielding their faces with their tunics.

‘We're ready,' said Woden.

Skadi moved slowly along the line, peering at the Gods' feet.

She stopped in front of one, moved on, then slowly returned.

‘I choose … him,' said Skadi.

The chosen God put down his tunic. It was Njord, Lord of Seafarers and Sea Creatures, with his weathered skin, and sea-salt smell.

Freya saw him gulp as he looked into the red eyes of his bride.

Skadi stepped back and grimaced.

‘I've been tricked,' said Skadi. ‘I wanted—'

‘You could have been given Loki, so rejoice in whom the fates have chosen for you,' said Woden. ‘A fair reward for your father's death, and the death of all the frost giants. In fact, you have got the better bargain.'

Skadi and her husband-to-be exchanged grimaces.

‘We're living in the mountains,' scowled Skadi. ‘I hate the sea.'

‘We're living by the seaside,' scowled Njord. ‘I hate the mountains.'

‘You can spend nine nights in each,' said Woden sharply. ‘But before you go, I have one more gift for Skadi, to mark the end of our enmity.' Reaching into his tunic, the All-Father removed two enormous liquid marbles.

‘Those are my father's eyes,' said Skadi.

‘Watch,' said Woden, and he hurled the eyes high into the heavens.

‘His eyes are twin stars now,' said Woden, ‘and for so long as this quick world lasts, they will look down upon you, and upon all of us.'

Skadi gazed into the sky. Then she nodded, and picked up her weapons. Njord, his face white, followed her.

Four Walk-In Wardrobes

‘Poor Dad,' said Freyja, applying lipstick to her bee-stung lips.

‘Rather him than me,' said Heimdall.

‘That was a close call,' said Tyr.

‘You're telling me,' said Woden's handsome son, Vali. His brother Vidar laughed.

‘It's time we went back to Asgard,' said Woden. ‘We don't belong here any more.'

‘I'm not going back with you,' said Freyja.

‘What do you mean, you're not going back?' said Woden. ‘Our time here has ended.'

‘I'm staying in Midgard,' said Freyja.

‘You
choose
to live with the sons of men?' said Sif. ‘Instead of the heaven of Asgard?'

Freyja tossed her head. Was it Freya's imagination, or had the Goddess put highlights into her glossy gold hair? It had a distinctly metallic hue Freya didn't remember.

The Goddess opened her mother-of-pearl compact, and checked her bright red lipstick. Stolen, I bet, thought Freya.

‘First of all, there are no shops in Asgard,' said the Goddess. ‘I was always wearing the same old robes and necklace. Here there are thousands of dresses, millions of jewels. And the shoes! It's worth staying just for the shoes. What's there to do in Asgard, except drink and fight and spy on humans? Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Whereas down here … I've never had so much fun.'

‘But you always said how much humans smell,' said Frigg.

Freyja shrugged. ‘I've got used to their stinkiness.'

‘And the noise? You never stopped complaining,' said Thor.

‘No noisier than all those spears and shields clashing every day, and all those drunken warriors yowling every night.'

‘And what about your beautiful hall, Sessrumnir?' said Sif.

‘Puh!' said Freyja. ‘That old hovel? It's draughty. It's cold. It's just a big old lump of gold and stone. Did you know I've got four walk-in wardrobes in my mansion here? Central heating. An indoor gym. A swimming pool. No more dips in those icy rivers for me. I don't know how I put up with it for all those centuries. I'm a style icon. I'm worshipped. My picture is in every magazine. Now if you'll excuse me I've got a manicure and massage booked for this afternoon. I'm being interviewed later this week for
Home Beautiful
. Then I'm being photographed for
Vogue –
F
REYJA:
G
ODDESS
FOR
O
UR
T
IME
is the headline.'

‘And what about your husband, Od?' said Woden coldly. ‘And your daughter Hnoss?'

Freyja rolled her eyes. ‘Oh,
them
. I'll drop by Asgard from time to time, don't you worry, see how you're all getting on, pick up one of Idunn's apples …' And off she clattered on her high-heeled, crystal encrusted shoes, barking
into her diamond-covered mobile and swinging her enormous Gucci leather handbag.

‘Let her go,' said Woden. ‘She'll come to her senses. Soon she will be old news, and other goddesses will replace her. As one day, we will be replaced. I know that now.'

‘All the more reason to live for today,' said Loki, tottering over to them, as old and decrepit as ever. ‘Give me the apple I have earned.'

Woden nodded, and Idunn handed a golden apple to the Trickster. He gnawed at it frantically with his few remaining teeth. Freya turned away. She didn't want to be near him when he regained his youth and strength.

‘I'm going home,' she said. She felt in her pocket for her falcon feather. One last flight, she thought. One last flight.

The Gods and Goddesses, watching Loki intently, ignored her.

Roskva and Alfi were busy with Thor's chariot, making it ready.

‘Till next time,' said Alfi. ‘When it is so fated we meet again.'

‘There's bound to be a next time,' said Roskva. ‘Unfortunately.'

Alfi scooped up a jagged piece of steel grey rock and gave it to her.

‘Here,' he said. ‘A remembrance of a great battle you alone in Midgard witnessed.'

Freya shook her head, shuddering. A piece of a giant's body? No thanks.

‘Maybe you could come for a visit one day?' she said. ‘And we could just do some normal stuff – hang out, see a movie, go shopping …' Her voice trailed off.

‘Be lucky,' said Alfi.

‘Be fortunate,' said Roskva.

‘Be blessed,' said Freya.

The brother and sister linked arms as they walked back to Thor.

Woden's voice drifted through her head as she shook out the falcon skin.

‘Mortal,' he said. ‘May you enjoy a longer destiny. Act in a way which will be long remembered when life is over.'

Do the Gods Exist?

BBC Breaking News

The age old question: do the Gods exist? has just been answered – maybe.

It's been announced today that the Gods have been hiding here in plain sight. After being absent for millennia, Woden, Thor and Freyja have revealed themselves in hurricane-shattered London. Yes, that's Woden, the former
FAME
:
Make Me a Star
winner, Thor the celebrated footballer, and supermodel Freyja. They were joined at a sparsely attended news conference by other Gods, including Njord, Frey, Tyr, Sif, Hermod, Frigg, Idunn, Loki and Heimdall.

When asked why they were revealing themselves now, Woden the All-Father gave a cryptic reply: ‘We have saved you from the melting ice. But next time bad luck may be on your side. Let those who can, achieve glory before the ending of life in this world.'

Then, in an attempt to allay doubts, the All-Father, Lord of the Slain, led a select group of journalists to Highgate Cemetery, where he used charms to raise the dead from their grave mounds. One bearded spectre rose from Karl Marx's mound and asked: ‘Is capitalism dead yet?' before sinking back into the ground. The miracle has been posted on YouTube and has already had 17 million views, though others have been quick to condemn what TV magician Knut Brown called ‘a cheap stunt'.

Their spokeswoman Veronica Horsley said: ‘The great, almighty and immortal Gods have decided that the time was once again right for their worshippers to see them briefly face to face before they return to their heavenly home in Asgard. All-night vigils are being held
at Fanes throughout the world to celebrate.'

Not everyone has reacted with favour.

The Archpriest of York issued a statement: ‘I look forward to having an audience with the Gods and confirming they are indeed who they say they are.' The Lord High Priestess in Copenhagen has declined to comment.

London Priestess Clare Raven has been besieged by reporters since it was discovered that the Gods lived with her for a few days when they arrived incognito.

‘I'm afraid I didn't recognise them at first but they were very well disguised,' said the Priestess. ‘However, I was humbled to be their first port of call and glad to show them what hospitality I could.'

When asked what it was like having the Gods in her home, the Priestess said she would not be adding to her statement and invited the journalists to join her for evening worship.

Richard Dawkins writes: ‘I don't believe it,' see
page 7

Three Months Later

Freya was on the 259 bus to school. Everywhere she looked there were cranes and skips and yellow-hatted workmen repairing shattered buildings and clearing the last of the storm damage.

BOOK: The Lost Gods
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