For now, just rest.”
And the bear lay down on the branches, crushing them under its bulk. The boy lay beside the animal, smelling the deep bearish scent of it, pushing against the fur and feeling the softness and the warmth.
The world was comfortable and quiet and warm. He was safe, and everything was enclosed by the dark…
When he opened his eyes once more, he was cold, and he was alone, and the moon was huge and white and high in the sky. More than twice as big as the moon in Midgard , thought Odd, and he wondered if that was because Asgard was closer to the moon, or whether it had its own moon…
The bear was gone.
In the pale moonlight Odd could see shapes moving in the water of the pool, and he pulled himself to his feet and limped over to look more closely.
At the water’s edge he crouched down, made a cup from his hand, scooped up water, and drank. The water was icy cold, but as he drank he felt warmed and safe and comfortable.
The figures in the water dissolved and reformed.
“What do you need to see?” asked a voice from behind Odd.
Odd said nothing.
“You have drunk from my spring,” said the voice.
“Did I do something wrong?” asked Odd.
There was silence. Then, “No,” said the voice. It sounded very old, so ancient Odd could not tell if it was a man’s voice or a woman’s. Then the voice said, “Look.”
On the water’s surface he saw reflections. His father, in the winter, playing with him and his mother—a silly game of blindman’s buff that left them all giggling and helpless on the ground…
He saw a huge creature, with icicles in its beard and hair like the pattern the frost makes on the leaves and on the ice early in the morning, sittingbeside a huge wall, scanning the horizon restlessly.
He saw his mother sitting in a corner of the great hall, sewing up Fat Elfred’s worn jerkin, and her eyes were red with tears.
He saw the cold plains where the Frost Giants live, saw Frost Giants hauling rocks, and feasting on great horned elk, and dancing beneath the moon.
He saw his father, sitting in the woodcutter’s hut he had so recently left himself. His father had a knife in one hand, a lump of wood in the other. He began to carve, a strange, distant smile on his face. Odd knew that smile…
He saw his father as a young man, leaping from the longship into the sea and running up a craggy beach. Odd knew that this was Scotland, that soon his father would meet his mother…
He saw his mother sitting in a corner of the great hall…and her eyes were red with tears.
He kept watching.
The moonlight was so bright in that place. Odd could see what he needed to. After some time, he pulled out the lump of wood he had found in his father’s hut and his knife, and he began to carve, in smooth, confident strokes, removing everything that wasn’t part of the carving.
He carved until daybreak, when the bear crunched through the trees into the clearing.
It did not ask what Odd had seen in the pool, and Odd did not volunteer anything.
Odd climbed onto the bear’s back. “You’re getting smaller again,” said Odd. This was no longer the huge bear of the previous evening. Now it seemed only slightly bigger than it had been the first time Odd had ridden it. “You’ve shrunk.”
“If you say so,” said the bear.
“Where do the Frost Giants come from?” askedOdd, as they bounded through the forest.
“Jotunheim,” said the bear. “It means giants’ home. It’s across the great river. Mostly they stay on their own side. But they’ve crossed before. One time, one of them wanted the Sun, the Moon and Lady Freya. The time before that, they wanted my hammer, Mjollnir, and the hand of Lady Freya. There was one time they wanted all the treasures of Asgard and Lady Freya…”
“They must like Lady Freya a lot,” said Odd.
“They do. She’s very pretty.”
“What’s it like in Jotunheim?” asked Odd.
“Bleak. Treeless. Cold. Desolate. Nothing like it is here. You
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