12. THE QUEST OF THE FOUNTAIN.
*I still find your tale most strange, little one,* Hrimhari was saying, as he and Rahne trotted side by side through the Iron Forest. *Not simply that you are one of the two-legs who can take on the shape of one of my kind; as I said before, I have heard of such things. But that you travel with other two-legs, also gifted with remarkable abilities, and that you come from Midgard - that is much more astonishing. There has been no traffic between Midgard and our world for many generations.*
*Midgard?* Rahne asked.
*It is the name that both we and the two-legs in these parts have for your world,* said Hrimhari. *There was once much travel between your world and ours, I believe, long ago. But then the gateways were closed, and we have heard nothing from Midgard or the two-legs dwelling there ever since.*
*How did that happen?* Rahne asked. *The gateways closing, I mean?*
*I have heard that Odin, the ruler of the Aesir, had decided that the two- legs in Midgard should be left in peace,* the wolf explained. *Until then, many of the peoples in this world and the ones adjoining it were fond of visiting Midgard, and meeting with the two-legs. Odin himself did it frequently, I have heard. So did the alfar, the jotnar, the duergar, and even some of my own kind. But after a time, Odin came to the decision that the two-legs should be left alone. He forbade his own people to visit Midgard again, without his leave, and sealed off all the gateways to it. But it seems that one of the two-legs in your world has opened a gateway to this place of his own.*
*Odin?* Rahne asked. *You're not talking about who I think you're talking about, are you?*
*So his fame still lingers on in Midgard,* said Hrimhari, looking interested. *I must admit, I had never expected such a thing. Although I've given little thought to your home-world, in truth, ere now. It never seemed particularly important here in Jarnvith.*
*So can you help me find my friends?* Rahne asked, returning to the original subject.
*I must inform you that you are asking much of me,* Hrimhari told her gravely. *My kind have never had dealings with two-legs before. We prefer to keep to ourselves, and not become involved in their affairs. It's safer for us that way.*
*I know what you mean,* said Rahne. *A lot of - well, two-legs - aren't all that fond of wolves back home. But Sam, Jamie, and Amara are different. They don't have that big a problem with wolves, especially with me around.*
*So you can vouch for them, then?*
*Yes, I can,* said Rahne. *And it's really important, too.*
*Well, since you are partly of my kind, and have spoken on their behalf, I will see what I can do,* said Hrimhari. *Now, where did you say you were when the svart alfar attacked and parted you from your friends?*
*I'm not quite certain now, actually,* Rahne admitted. *I was so busy running that I didn't have that much opportunity to look at my surroundings. It wasn't too far from here. And Sam and Jamie looked as though they were heading east, when I saw them last. Oh, yes, I think that I was somewhere to the south of here at the time.*
*Then they would have been fleeing in the direction of Nidavellir,* said Hrimhari.
*Nidavellir?* Rahne asked. *What's that?*
*It is the dwelling of the duergar,* said Hrimhari. *They are another branch of the two-legs, shorter than others. They live underground, or so I have heard, and spend much time working with stone and with metal.*
*And how would they treat Sam and Jamie?* Rahne asked.
*I do not know,* said Hrimhari. *We have no contact with the earth-folk; they possess nothing that we require, so we have never sought them out. How they would respond towards the two-legs of Midgard, therefore, I cannot say.*
*Well, in that case, I definitely need to go there,* said Rahne. *Can you tell me the way?*
*I can do better,* said Hrimhari. *I can go with you, as a guide. And this, I should warn you, is doing much. This will be the first time for many seasons that I have left the Iron Forest. My kind does not venture beyond the eaves of Jarnvith lightly, I must tell you.*
*Then why are you making an exception for me?* Rahne asked.
*Because you are partly of my kind, even if you are also a two-legs,* said Hrimhari. *We do not abandon each other in time of need.*
*Thank you,* said Rahne. *This means a lot to me.*
The two of them set off through the woods, heading in the direction that Rahne assumed was southwards.
* * *
Sam closed another book with a sigh, and pulled a fresh one down from the shelf. In the process, he inadvertently dislodged a fairly sizable cloud of dust, promptly provoking a sneezing fit from Jamie, who was standing next to him.
"We really are going to have to consult the books here more often," said King Eitri ruefully. "It is alarming as to how much we have neglected this place."
"You can say that again," said Amara, looking disapprovingly at a few cobwebs overrunning the bookshelf to her right. "When was the last time that you had someone in here to clean this place?"
"Perhaps Nidavellir is the wrong place to be seeking what you wish to know," said Hlevang, ignoring her words. "The libraries in Alfheim or Svartalfheim might prove more informative. Or Odin himself might know of a cure. But we have no means of journeying to Alfheim or Asgard, and venturing to Svartalfheim is far too perilous. So this will have to do."
"How about this?" Jamie asked, looking down at one of the crinkly parchment pages. He pointed to a small passage in the text, next to a rough illustration of what looked like a forest spring.
The others crowded around the book. King Eitri read the passage aloud. " 'It is said that the Fountain of Lyfja contains within its waters this virtue, to undo any dark enchantment woven by the svart alfar. Whosoever drinks from it will be cured even of the transformations wrought by partaking of faerie food.'"
"Now we're getting somewhere!" cried Sam eagerly.
"I'll say that we are," agreed Amara. "So where is this Fountain of Lyfja? Not too far away from here, I hope?"
"Fortunately, it is fairly close at hand," said King Eitri. "It is only a few hours' journey from here, in fact."
"That's great!" said Sam. "We can go looking for it at once!"
"However, there are complications," King Eitri continued. "The Fountain of Lyfja lies within the Iron Forest, or Jarnvith."
"Jarnvith?" Sam repeated. "The same Jarnvith where all those wolves live, that you told us about?"
Eitri nodded. "The same," he said.
"Well, we'll just have to deal with them, then," said Sam, with a sigh. "Amara and I can just head off -"
"Amara will have to remain here," said King Eitri.
"I beg your pardon?" the girl began sharply. "I am not going to be kept here as a prisoner, or a hostage, or something like that! All right, so I burned down your doors, but that was only because those dark elves had me in a trance at the time!"
"I fear that you mistake us," said Hlevang. "We have no intention of holding you against your will. But the Iron Forest is literally that. Its trees are made of iron rather than of wood. And as long as you remain a dark elf, my lady, you cannot safely set foot within it. Iron is poison to the alfar, you see."
"Don't worry, Amara," said Sam. "I can handle it on my own."
"Not quite on your own," said King Eitri. "Jarnvith is a very dangerous place to venture into. You should not go there alone. I am sending Ginnar with you; he can protect you in case you come upon any danger."
"I can handle it myself," Sam replied. "But - thanks, anyway."
* * *
Ginnar did not appear particularly pleased with the prospect of the journey into the Iron Forest, and made no attempt to hide his dislike for it as he and Sam set out. He was grumbling under his breath all the while, as they left through the gates of Nidavellir (a different set of gates than the ones that Amara had earlier destroyed on behalf of the dark elves, lying a mile or so to the north of those), Sam waving good- bye to Jamie, Amara, King Eitri, Hlevang, and a small crowd of interested and curious dwarves behind them. He was still grumbling as they continued northwards, towards a dark line of trees in the distance.
"Anything wrong?" Sam asked him, after a couple of minutes.
"Anything wrong?" the dwarf repeated. "I'll say that there is. I have a very bad feeling about this entire enterprise!"
"Why?" Sam inquired. "What's wrong about it?"
"Several things," Ginnar replied. "We are now at war with the dark elves, and at this time, I should be there to defend Nidavellir. And instead, I have been sent away to aid a Midgarder in searching the Iron Forest for a magical fountain to cure another Midgarder - and one who helped the dark elves against us, at that."
"Hey, don't blame Amara for it!" Sam protested at once. "They'd brainwashed her into doing it!"
"Nevertheless, this quest of yours has still taken me away from my homeland in its hour of need," growled Ginnar, "and all for the sake of one who is not even of our kind. Why King Eitri insists on helping you Midgarders is entirely beyond me. After all, what have your kind ever done for us?"
"Well, I'd be satisfied to do the job all by myself, actually," said Sam. "But the king believes that I need somebody along to watch out for me, so I guess that we're stuck with each other at the moment."
"For the moment," said Ginnar. "Entirely out of necessity, and nothing else. And never forget that, Midgarder."
They trudged on in silence for a while. The woods drew nearer. As they approached them, the sun sank lower in the sky, setting in the west. Ginnar lit his lantern, as the shadows lengthened, and spoke to Sam in a low voice.
"Stay close to me, boy," he said. "They say that the beasts of Jarnvith are more active at night. We should probably have left in the morning," he added. 'Then we would not have had to brave the perils of the Iron Forest in the darkness."
"I don't think that that would have worked out all that well," Sam replied. "For one thing, we'd have had to put up with Amara complaining a lot more about looking really weird. Believe me, the wolves would be a lot safer for us."
"She is often like that, then?" Ginnar inquired.
"Believe me, you don't want to know," answered Sam. "Of course, she is a princess - as she keeps on reminding us. And an only child, at that. I suppose that you get a lot more attention when you don't have a whole bunch of brothers and sisters, though I wouldn't know."
"How do you endure her?" asked Ginnar.
"Practice, mostly," said Sam. "That, and the Professor telling us that we need to be nice to her. He did it quite a lot when she first moved into the Institute, too. Why, I remember -"
"That will do," said Ginnar, in a low voice. They were standing at the very edge of the Iron Forest now. "If you have anything to say - and I suggest that you only speak while here if it is of the utmost necessity, and not a simple desire to hear the sound of your own voice or to ask idle questions - speak it only in a whisper. We do not know what lies within to overhear us."
"The wolves are that dangerous?" Sam asked.
"Not only the wolves, but something worse," said Ginnar grimly. "Their grandmother lives here as well."
"Grandmother?" said Sam. "They've got a grandmother?"
"Of course," said Ginnar. "She is the matriarch of the pack."
"Well, I've heard of wolves and grandmothers before, but not like this," said Sam. "So what's she like?"
"You are better off not knowing," replied Ginnar, in a low voice. "Let us hope that we can reach the Fountain of Lyfja, gather some of its waters, and return to Nidavellir without meeting her or any of her brood."
"Sounds like a good plan to me," said Sam, nodding. "Let's do it, then."
They passed underneath the trees, making their way through the wood with as little noise as possible. Sam looked closely at the trees, as he passed by them. "There's something kind of weird about them," he told the dwarf, in a low voice. "They look as if they're made out of some sort of metal."
"It is not called the Iron Forest for nothing," Ginnar replied.
"Yeah, but how'd they get like that?" Sam asked. "I mean, being made out of iron?"
"Nobody knows," said Ginnar quickly. "And in any case, now is not the time to discuss the matter." Without saying a further word, he continued forward, his heavy boots crunching upon the snow-covered forest floor. Sam followed him, silent himself now.
"You're certain that you know where this fountain is?" he asked, after a couple of minutes.
"Indeed I am," said the dwarf sharply, speaking in a tone of voice best described as "Don't ask me any more questions, if you know what's good for you." "And, yes, we are headed for it. We will probably reach it in another half hour. And that is all that I will say." And with that, he fell silent again, with a belligerent enough look in his eyes that Sam decided not to say anything more. He particularly decided against mentioning the fact that, just now, Ginnar was reminding him a lot of a certain instructor back at the Institute. Come to think of it, Logan wasn't that much taller than Ginnar....
They continued on, among the metal trees. Sam could now hear odd noises, in the tree-cast shadows on both sides of them. He looked in both directions, but could not see whatever it was that was making those sounds. The sounds were not even clear enough for him to tell just what their source was. All that he could be certain of was that they seemed to be made by something walking about, over the snowy ground. But as to just what it was, he could not tell. Other than the fact that it sounded like something on four legs. Four legs.... He wondered what it could be. Was it one of the wolves that lived in these woods, which he had already heard about? Or could it be Rahne? He wished that he knew for certain. Of course, if it wasn't Rahne, but was one of those local wolves instead - and the dwarves had already indicated that they weren't all that friendly - he could very well need the hauberk that he was still wearing and the sword at his belt, even if he still felt awkward with them. He knew that Rahne wouldn't approve of getting into a fight with a wolf, and especially not injuring it, but surely she'd understand....
Ginnar suddenly grasped him by the arm. Sam almost jumped out of his skin, and stared the dwarf straight in the face. "Hey!" he shouted, forgetting the earlier charge to keep quiet in his excitement. "What was that for?"
"One of those beasts is close at hand," said Ginnar, in a harsh whisper. "A particularly large one, from what I can tell. And it appears to be drawing closer. Yes, I would say that it has definitely caught our scent."
"So what do we do now?" asked Sam.
"It is too late now to elude it," replied the dwarf warrior grimly. He raised his axe. "We will have to do battle with it."
"Battle?" repeated Sam.
"There's no other way," said Ginnar. "Either we must dispatch it to Niflheim and Hel's realm, or else it will do the same to us."
"Right now, Choice A looks like the better of the two," said Sam, hoping that he was sounding calm, but very much suspecting that he was not.
The mutant youth and the dwarf alike took up their stances, weapons in hand, waiting. After a moment, Ginnar relaxed, lowering his axe. "It has retreated," he said. "At least, for now."
"That's good, then, isn't it?" Sam asked.
"Maybe," said Ginnar. "Or maybe it has gone to find others and return for us. We must remain on our guard."
* * *
*What is it?* Rahne asked, as Hrimhari trudged back to her through the snow. He had left her a few minutes ago, to investigate a noise some yards away, telling her to remain where she was until he got back. *Did you find out who it was?*
He nodded. *Yes, I have,* he said. *There are two folk of the two-legs in the wood. One is of the duergar. The other appears to be a Midgarder.*
*Did you see what he looked like?* asked Rahne, hope dawning.
*A male, and taller than his companion,* said Hrimhari. *He looks to be leaving puppyhood, but has not entirely departed from that condition. Wait! Where are you going, young one?*
Rahne was already darting through the trees, in the direction from which Hrimhari had come. Alarmed, the great grey wolf ran after her.
* * *
Sam and Ginnar had not gone far when they heard the sound of something crashing through the undergrowth towards them. They halted once again.
"It has returned," said Ginnar grimly, raising his axe high once again. "When I give the word, strike!"
A red-furred wolf burst into the open, running straight for Sam, baying eagerly. Ginnar prepared to swing his axe, crying out in a loud voice as he did so, "Back, whelp of Jarnvith! Back, or, by the bones of Blain, I shall -"
"No, stop!" cried Sam, sheathing the sword that he had half-drawn and rushing towards the wolf. It was shifting into human form even as he spoke. "It's Rahne!"
"That creature is your friend?" cried Ginnar incredulously. But he stood where he was, and offered her no violence, as Rahne ran up to Sam and hugged him.
"Sam!" she cried delightedly. "Ye're here! But - where's Jamie?"
"He's safe, Rahne," said Sam. "We left him and Amara back with the rest of the dwarves. But where've you been all this time?"
"Out in these woods," she replied. "I hid here after those knights came after me." She paused. "Amara's with ye again?"
"Yeah," replied Sam. "It's kind of a long story, though. And it's why we're here." He suddenly remembered his guide, and glanced at once over at Ginnar. "Rahne, this is Ginnar Bivarson. He's one of the dwarves from Nidavellir." Turning to the dwarf, he added, "And this is Rahne Sinclair. She's one of my friends."
"You have made friends with a werewolf?" Ginnar all but sputtered.
"Rahne's not a werewolf," Sam replied. "Well, she kind of is one," he added, "but not that kind of werewolf. She's from back home, like me."
He was about to say more, when there came the noise of something large dashing through the trees towards them, and a great shadow loomed amid the forest gloom. Ginnar lifted his axe again. "This time it must be one of the monstrous wolves that dwell here," he said. "Now to deal with it!"
"No, wait!" cried Rahne at once. Even as she spoke, an enormous grey wolf emerged from the trees, coming into plain view. Ginnar prepared to lunge at it.
"He is nae an enemy!" Rahne cried. "He's a friend!"
"A friend?" asked Ginnar incredulously. The wolf was staring at both him and Sam suspiciously, but making no move as yet. "That beast is your friend?"
"His name's Hrimhari," said Rahne, "and he saved my life! Here, let me explain to him that ye're not the enemy!" And she shifted back into her wolf form, and began barking and growling to the large grey wolf. The wolf whom she had called Hrimhari listened, then barked and yipped at her back. The conversation-of-a-sort went on for a couple of minutes, before Rahne returned to her human form and spoke to them again.
"I explained it all to him," she said, "and convinced him that ye both come in peace. But why are ye here, anyway?" She looked more closely at Sam. "And, for that matter, what are ye doin', wearin' that armor? Ye look really weird in it."
"Well, it's like this," said Sam. "Amara's been turned into a dark elf by that food that she ate - you were right about it, by the way - and we have to find this enchanted fountain somewhere in the woods and use its waters to change her back into a human. The dwarves have her back in Nidavellir because she can't come into this place. All the trees are made out of iron, and iron's poison to her as long as she's a dark elf."
"And do ye know where this fountain might be?" Rahne asked.
"He does," said Sam, pointing to Ginnar. "At least, I hope that he does."
"Yes, I do," said Ginnar, a trifle sharply. "But I would still like to know what it is that you are doing, consorting with one of those wolves. They're dangerous beasts."
"Have ye ever met one o' the wolves in these parts?" Rahne asked him, looking him straight in the eye.
"I have never even set foot here before," said Ginnar. "No dwarf has visited the Iron Forest in many centuries. But our traditions are not false. The wolves of Jarnvith are perilous. Every dwarf in Nidavellir knows that."
"And how would ye know, if none o' yuir people hae even met a wolf here, for so long?" Rahne asked, her voice sounding very angry now. "Ye're condemnin' an entire species just because of some auld tradition! Suppose that yuir tradition turns out to be false, then what?"
"You are speaking of time-honored records passed from one generation of dwarves to another -" Ginnar began. But Rahne did not let him continue.
"We've got people like that back home, as well! Hatin' wolves and anythin' else that seems different from themselves, and comin' up with all sorts o' excuses for it! And that doesn't change the fact that they're wrong! Nae, it does not!"
"Good point," said Sam. "And he hasn't tried to eat us, either," he added, indicating Hrimhari as he spoke. "Oh, and one other thing. If you've never been in Jarnvith before, then how do you know where the Fountain of Lyfja is?"
"The book gave detailed instructions on how to find it," said Ginnar stiffly.
Hrimhari was watching the whole conversation, looking more than a little puzzled. "Excuse me for a moment," said Rahne. "I'll fill him in."
She shifted back to wolf-form, and barked at him for a couple of minutes. He replied with a few growls and whines of his own. After a bit more back- and-forth talk between them, Rahne returned to her human form, and spoke again.
"Hrimhari says that he knows where the Fountain of Lyfja can be found," she said. "He'll lead us there."
"He's doing that for us?" asked Sam.
"Well, for me, actually," said Rahne. "Let's do it, shall we?"
"I am not following a wolf of Jarnvith anywh-" Ginnar stopped in mid- sentence, as he realized that the two youngsters were already rushing off after Hrimhari, who was loping through the woods at a great pace. "Hey!" he shouted. "Wait for me!" And he ran off after the three of them.
* * *
It was after a while longer of running that they reached an open clearing, in the middle of which a natural spring gushed upwards. Hrimhari pointed at it with his snout, and barked once.
"This must be it," said Rahne. "Ye've got something to put the water in, I trust?"
Sam nodded, pulling a leather flask from his belt. "They gave it to us just before we left Nidavellir," he said. He dipped it into the water, then pulled it out and carefully screwed on the cap. "Yes, that should do it," he said. "Now, let's go back."
"With pleasure," said Ginnar sourly. He glanced at the grey wolf in such a way as to show that he still did not trust it. "I hope that you are not planning on bringing it back with us to Nidavellir," he added.
Rahne looked at him sharply again, but instead of arguing with him over it, turned back into a wolf and spoke to Hrimhari. *He still does not seem to like having you around,* she said.
*So I gathered,* Hrimhari replied. *I doubt that I will be going back with you to Nidavellir, in any case. I feel more at home in the woods, myself.*
*So what will you be doing now?* Rahne asked him.
*I will seek out the rest of my pack,* he answered. *There seems to be something brewing here. Svart alfar and jotnar are clearly in league now, from what I have seen and heard as yet, and the svart alfar have already made war upon the duergar, it would seem. I must inform my fellow wolves of this, and consult with them. I very much doubt that what is coming is only a matter of importance for the two-legs, and thus my family must be warned and prepared. Until then, I must bid you farewell.*
*Good-bye, then,* said Rahne. *And thank you for helping me.*
*You are most welcome, little one,* said Hrimhari in return. And with that, he walked away through the trees, and vanished into the gloom.
"All right, he's gone," said Ginnar. "Now let us return to Nidavellir ourselves, shall we? If we remain here, who knows what we might run into next?"
"He's got a point," said Sam. "Let's be on our way now, shall we? We've got to deliver this to Amara."
* * *
"Where are they?" Amara asked, pacing back and forth in the library.
"Patience, my lady," said King Eitri. He, Hlevang, and Jamie were all watching the transformed princess of Nova Roma, the three of them looking more than a little apprehensive. Amara had several times summoned up a small ball of fire in her hand, and looked more than half ready to throw it somewhere as a means of releasing her frustrations. Since they were in the middle of a library filled with old books, that was anything but reassuring to them.
"That's easy for you to say!" she cried. "You're not the one who's been turned into a dark elf!"
"No, but burning down this room will not help matters at all," said the dwarf-king.
"I am not planning to burn the library down," Amara protested.
"Then could you please extinguish the ball of fire in your hand?" Hlevang asked her. "We find it more than a little disconcerting."
Amara sighed, as she banished the fire. "Don't say anything!" she added, looking sharply at Jamie.
"I wasn't even going to," the boy began. Before he could defend himself further, however, there came a loud knock on the door.
"Yes?" asked King Eitri. "Who's there?"
"We have returned, my lord," said Ginnar's voice. "And we have the water from the fountain."
"Enter," said Eitri.
The door opened, and Ginnar, Sam, and Rahne trooped in. Amara and Jamie stared at the young werewolf as she entered, Jamie letting out a squeal of delight. "You're back!" he cried, rushing towards her.
"Hullo, Jamie," said Rahne. Then she stopped and stared at Amara. "What big eyes ye have!" she said in astonishment.
"I'm surprised that you, of all people, would be saying that," said the Nova Roman princess sharply. "And I hardly needed to hear it from you, or anyone else, anyway."
"But it's the truth," Rahne argued. "I didna think it possible that anyone's eyes could grow so large, except in anime!"
"Sam will probably have told you everything," said Amara. "And now, can we please have the water, without any more of this fuss?"
Sam handed the flask to her. "Drink up, Your Highness," he said to her.
Amara uncorked the flask, then raised it to her mouth. She drank the contents with a very unregal display of haste, then lowered it with a sigh. "This had better work," she said.
Even as she spoke, her facial features began to undergo a number of contortions. Amara let out a brief cry of pain before her eyes shrank down, her chin became less pointed, and her ears grew smaller. In another moment, she looked fully like herself again.
"Thank goodness that's over with," she said, feeling her face. "So I'm back to normal now, am I?"
"I suppose," said Sam. "I've got to admit, this was all easier than I thought it would be."
"We're nae done yet, though," said Rahne. "We still have to find the others, after all. And we have to find a way of getting back home, for that matter."
"But that's not all," said Sam. "I mean, in light of everything that we've heard, we seem to have some sort of big war on our hands. Dark elves, giants, and even this Loki guy - if that's who Ivar really was. They all seem to be up to something big."
"Hrimhari certainly seemed to believe it," agreed Rahne.
"Hrimhari?" asked King Eitri.
"You do not wish to know, my liege," said Ginnar. "Believe me when I say that unto you."
"So I'd say that we're going to have to help the folks here do something about it," said Sam. "Find out just what Loki's up to, and then stop him, as well as rescuing Bobby and the other kids from him. What do the rest of you think?"
"I'm for it," said Rahne.
"So am I," said Amara. "I've more than a few things to say to him for what he did to me."
"Jamie?" asked Sam.
The youngest of the New Mutants nodded. "Just as long as I don't get left behind again," he added.
"Good," said Sam. "Now let's see if we can figure out some sort of plan."
*I still find your tale most strange, little one,* Hrimhari was saying, as he and Rahne trotted side by side through the Iron Forest. *Not simply that you are one of the two-legs who can take on the shape of one of my kind; as I said before, I have heard of such things. But that you travel with other two-legs, also gifted with remarkable abilities, and that you come from Midgard - that is much more astonishing. There has been no traffic between Midgard and our world for many generations.*
*Midgard?* Rahne asked.
*It is the name that both we and the two-legs in these parts have for your world,* said Hrimhari. *There was once much travel between your world and ours, I believe, long ago. But then the gateways were closed, and we have heard nothing from Midgard or the two-legs dwelling there ever since.*
*How did that happen?* Rahne asked. *The gateways closing, I mean?*
*I have heard that Odin, the ruler of the Aesir, had decided that the two- legs in Midgard should be left in peace,* the wolf explained. *Until then, many of the peoples in this world and the ones adjoining it were fond of visiting Midgard, and meeting with the two-legs. Odin himself did it frequently, I have heard. So did the alfar, the jotnar, the duergar, and even some of my own kind. But after a time, Odin came to the decision that the two-legs should be left alone. He forbade his own people to visit Midgard again, without his leave, and sealed off all the gateways to it. But it seems that one of the two-legs in your world has opened a gateway to this place of his own.*
*Odin?* Rahne asked. *You're not talking about who I think you're talking about, are you?*
*So his fame still lingers on in Midgard,* said Hrimhari, looking interested. *I must admit, I had never expected such a thing. Although I've given little thought to your home-world, in truth, ere now. It never seemed particularly important here in Jarnvith.*
*So can you help me find my friends?* Rahne asked, returning to the original subject.
*I must inform you that you are asking much of me,* Hrimhari told her gravely. *My kind have never had dealings with two-legs before. We prefer to keep to ourselves, and not become involved in their affairs. It's safer for us that way.*
*I know what you mean,* said Rahne. *A lot of - well, two-legs - aren't all that fond of wolves back home. But Sam, Jamie, and Amara are different. They don't have that big a problem with wolves, especially with me around.*
*So you can vouch for them, then?*
*Yes, I can,* said Rahne. *And it's really important, too.*
*Well, since you are partly of my kind, and have spoken on their behalf, I will see what I can do,* said Hrimhari. *Now, where did you say you were when the svart alfar attacked and parted you from your friends?*
*I'm not quite certain now, actually,* Rahne admitted. *I was so busy running that I didn't have that much opportunity to look at my surroundings. It wasn't too far from here. And Sam and Jamie looked as though they were heading east, when I saw them last. Oh, yes, I think that I was somewhere to the south of here at the time.*
*Then they would have been fleeing in the direction of Nidavellir,* said Hrimhari.
*Nidavellir?* Rahne asked. *What's that?*
*It is the dwelling of the duergar,* said Hrimhari. *They are another branch of the two-legs, shorter than others. They live underground, or so I have heard, and spend much time working with stone and with metal.*
*And how would they treat Sam and Jamie?* Rahne asked.
*I do not know,* said Hrimhari. *We have no contact with the earth-folk; they possess nothing that we require, so we have never sought them out. How they would respond towards the two-legs of Midgard, therefore, I cannot say.*
*Well, in that case, I definitely need to go there,* said Rahne. *Can you tell me the way?*
*I can do better,* said Hrimhari. *I can go with you, as a guide. And this, I should warn you, is doing much. This will be the first time for many seasons that I have left the Iron Forest. My kind does not venture beyond the eaves of Jarnvith lightly, I must tell you.*
*Then why are you making an exception for me?* Rahne asked.
*Because you are partly of my kind, even if you are also a two-legs,* said Hrimhari. *We do not abandon each other in time of need.*
*Thank you,* said Rahne. *This means a lot to me.*
The two of them set off through the woods, heading in the direction that Rahne assumed was southwards.
* * *
Sam closed another book with a sigh, and pulled a fresh one down from the shelf. In the process, he inadvertently dislodged a fairly sizable cloud of dust, promptly provoking a sneezing fit from Jamie, who was standing next to him.
"We really are going to have to consult the books here more often," said King Eitri ruefully. "It is alarming as to how much we have neglected this place."
"You can say that again," said Amara, looking disapprovingly at a few cobwebs overrunning the bookshelf to her right. "When was the last time that you had someone in here to clean this place?"
"Perhaps Nidavellir is the wrong place to be seeking what you wish to know," said Hlevang, ignoring her words. "The libraries in Alfheim or Svartalfheim might prove more informative. Or Odin himself might know of a cure. But we have no means of journeying to Alfheim or Asgard, and venturing to Svartalfheim is far too perilous. So this will have to do."
"How about this?" Jamie asked, looking down at one of the crinkly parchment pages. He pointed to a small passage in the text, next to a rough illustration of what looked like a forest spring.
The others crowded around the book. King Eitri read the passage aloud. " 'It is said that the Fountain of Lyfja contains within its waters this virtue, to undo any dark enchantment woven by the svart alfar. Whosoever drinks from it will be cured even of the transformations wrought by partaking of faerie food.'"
"Now we're getting somewhere!" cried Sam eagerly.
"I'll say that we are," agreed Amara. "So where is this Fountain of Lyfja? Not too far away from here, I hope?"
"Fortunately, it is fairly close at hand," said King Eitri. "It is only a few hours' journey from here, in fact."
"That's great!" said Sam. "We can go looking for it at once!"
"However, there are complications," King Eitri continued. "The Fountain of Lyfja lies within the Iron Forest, or Jarnvith."
"Jarnvith?" Sam repeated. "The same Jarnvith where all those wolves live, that you told us about?"
Eitri nodded. "The same," he said.
"Well, we'll just have to deal with them, then," said Sam, with a sigh. "Amara and I can just head off -"
"Amara will have to remain here," said King Eitri.
"I beg your pardon?" the girl began sharply. "I am not going to be kept here as a prisoner, or a hostage, or something like that! All right, so I burned down your doors, but that was only because those dark elves had me in a trance at the time!"
"I fear that you mistake us," said Hlevang. "We have no intention of holding you against your will. But the Iron Forest is literally that. Its trees are made of iron rather than of wood. And as long as you remain a dark elf, my lady, you cannot safely set foot within it. Iron is poison to the alfar, you see."
"Don't worry, Amara," said Sam. "I can handle it on my own."
"Not quite on your own," said King Eitri. "Jarnvith is a very dangerous place to venture into. You should not go there alone. I am sending Ginnar with you; he can protect you in case you come upon any danger."
"I can handle it myself," Sam replied. "But - thanks, anyway."
* * *
Ginnar did not appear particularly pleased with the prospect of the journey into the Iron Forest, and made no attempt to hide his dislike for it as he and Sam set out. He was grumbling under his breath all the while, as they left through the gates of Nidavellir (a different set of gates than the ones that Amara had earlier destroyed on behalf of the dark elves, lying a mile or so to the north of those), Sam waving good- bye to Jamie, Amara, King Eitri, Hlevang, and a small crowd of interested and curious dwarves behind them. He was still grumbling as they continued northwards, towards a dark line of trees in the distance.
"Anything wrong?" Sam asked him, after a couple of minutes.
"Anything wrong?" the dwarf repeated. "I'll say that there is. I have a very bad feeling about this entire enterprise!"
"Why?" Sam inquired. "What's wrong about it?"
"Several things," Ginnar replied. "We are now at war with the dark elves, and at this time, I should be there to defend Nidavellir. And instead, I have been sent away to aid a Midgarder in searching the Iron Forest for a magical fountain to cure another Midgarder - and one who helped the dark elves against us, at that."
"Hey, don't blame Amara for it!" Sam protested at once. "They'd brainwashed her into doing it!"
"Nevertheless, this quest of yours has still taken me away from my homeland in its hour of need," growled Ginnar, "and all for the sake of one who is not even of our kind. Why King Eitri insists on helping you Midgarders is entirely beyond me. After all, what have your kind ever done for us?"
"Well, I'd be satisfied to do the job all by myself, actually," said Sam. "But the king believes that I need somebody along to watch out for me, so I guess that we're stuck with each other at the moment."
"For the moment," said Ginnar. "Entirely out of necessity, and nothing else. And never forget that, Midgarder."
They trudged on in silence for a while. The woods drew nearer. As they approached them, the sun sank lower in the sky, setting in the west. Ginnar lit his lantern, as the shadows lengthened, and spoke to Sam in a low voice.
"Stay close to me, boy," he said. "They say that the beasts of Jarnvith are more active at night. We should probably have left in the morning," he added. 'Then we would not have had to brave the perils of the Iron Forest in the darkness."
"I don't think that that would have worked out all that well," Sam replied. "For one thing, we'd have had to put up with Amara complaining a lot more about looking really weird. Believe me, the wolves would be a lot safer for us."
"She is often like that, then?" Ginnar inquired.
"Believe me, you don't want to know," answered Sam. "Of course, she is a princess - as she keeps on reminding us. And an only child, at that. I suppose that you get a lot more attention when you don't have a whole bunch of brothers and sisters, though I wouldn't know."
"How do you endure her?" asked Ginnar.
"Practice, mostly," said Sam. "That, and the Professor telling us that we need to be nice to her. He did it quite a lot when she first moved into the Institute, too. Why, I remember -"
"That will do," said Ginnar, in a low voice. They were standing at the very edge of the Iron Forest now. "If you have anything to say - and I suggest that you only speak while here if it is of the utmost necessity, and not a simple desire to hear the sound of your own voice or to ask idle questions - speak it only in a whisper. We do not know what lies within to overhear us."
"The wolves are that dangerous?" Sam asked.
"Not only the wolves, but something worse," said Ginnar grimly. "Their grandmother lives here as well."
"Grandmother?" said Sam. "They've got a grandmother?"
"Of course," said Ginnar. "She is the matriarch of the pack."
"Well, I've heard of wolves and grandmothers before, but not like this," said Sam. "So what's she like?"
"You are better off not knowing," replied Ginnar, in a low voice. "Let us hope that we can reach the Fountain of Lyfja, gather some of its waters, and return to Nidavellir without meeting her or any of her brood."
"Sounds like a good plan to me," said Sam, nodding. "Let's do it, then."
They passed underneath the trees, making their way through the wood with as little noise as possible. Sam looked closely at the trees, as he passed by them. "There's something kind of weird about them," he told the dwarf, in a low voice. "They look as if they're made out of some sort of metal."
"It is not called the Iron Forest for nothing," Ginnar replied.
"Yeah, but how'd they get like that?" Sam asked. "I mean, being made out of iron?"
"Nobody knows," said Ginnar quickly. "And in any case, now is not the time to discuss the matter." Without saying a further word, he continued forward, his heavy boots crunching upon the snow-covered forest floor. Sam followed him, silent himself now.
"You're certain that you know where this fountain is?" he asked, after a couple of minutes.
"Indeed I am," said the dwarf sharply, speaking in a tone of voice best described as "Don't ask me any more questions, if you know what's good for you." "And, yes, we are headed for it. We will probably reach it in another half hour. And that is all that I will say." And with that, he fell silent again, with a belligerent enough look in his eyes that Sam decided not to say anything more. He particularly decided against mentioning the fact that, just now, Ginnar was reminding him a lot of a certain instructor back at the Institute. Come to think of it, Logan wasn't that much taller than Ginnar....
They continued on, among the metal trees. Sam could now hear odd noises, in the tree-cast shadows on both sides of them. He looked in both directions, but could not see whatever it was that was making those sounds. The sounds were not even clear enough for him to tell just what their source was. All that he could be certain of was that they seemed to be made by something walking about, over the snowy ground. But as to just what it was, he could not tell. Other than the fact that it sounded like something on four legs. Four legs.... He wondered what it could be. Was it one of the wolves that lived in these woods, which he had already heard about? Or could it be Rahne? He wished that he knew for certain. Of course, if it wasn't Rahne, but was one of those local wolves instead - and the dwarves had already indicated that they weren't all that friendly - he could very well need the hauberk that he was still wearing and the sword at his belt, even if he still felt awkward with them. He knew that Rahne wouldn't approve of getting into a fight with a wolf, and especially not injuring it, but surely she'd understand....
Ginnar suddenly grasped him by the arm. Sam almost jumped out of his skin, and stared the dwarf straight in the face. "Hey!" he shouted, forgetting the earlier charge to keep quiet in his excitement. "What was that for?"
"One of those beasts is close at hand," said Ginnar, in a harsh whisper. "A particularly large one, from what I can tell. And it appears to be drawing closer. Yes, I would say that it has definitely caught our scent."
"So what do we do now?" asked Sam.
"It is too late now to elude it," replied the dwarf warrior grimly. He raised his axe. "We will have to do battle with it."
"Battle?" repeated Sam.
"There's no other way," said Ginnar. "Either we must dispatch it to Niflheim and Hel's realm, or else it will do the same to us."
"Right now, Choice A looks like the better of the two," said Sam, hoping that he was sounding calm, but very much suspecting that he was not.
The mutant youth and the dwarf alike took up their stances, weapons in hand, waiting. After a moment, Ginnar relaxed, lowering his axe. "It has retreated," he said. "At least, for now."
"That's good, then, isn't it?" Sam asked.
"Maybe," said Ginnar. "Or maybe it has gone to find others and return for us. We must remain on our guard."
* * *
*What is it?* Rahne asked, as Hrimhari trudged back to her through the snow. He had left her a few minutes ago, to investigate a noise some yards away, telling her to remain where she was until he got back. *Did you find out who it was?*
He nodded. *Yes, I have,* he said. *There are two folk of the two-legs in the wood. One is of the duergar. The other appears to be a Midgarder.*
*Did you see what he looked like?* asked Rahne, hope dawning.
*A male, and taller than his companion,* said Hrimhari. *He looks to be leaving puppyhood, but has not entirely departed from that condition. Wait! Where are you going, young one?*
Rahne was already darting through the trees, in the direction from which Hrimhari had come. Alarmed, the great grey wolf ran after her.
* * *
Sam and Ginnar had not gone far when they heard the sound of something crashing through the undergrowth towards them. They halted once again.
"It has returned," said Ginnar grimly, raising his axe high once again. "When I give the word, strike!"
A red-furred wolf burst into the open, running straight for Sam, baying eagerly. Ginnar prepared to swing his axe, crying out in a loud voice as he did so, "Back, whelp of Jarnvith! Back, or, by the bones of Blain, I shall -"
"No, stop!" cried Sam, sheathing the sword that he had half-drawn and rushing towards the wolf. It was shifting into human form even as he spoke. "It's Rahne!"
"That creature is your friend?" cried Ginnar incredulously. But he stood where he was, and offered her no violence, as Rahne ran up to Sam and hugged him.
"Sam!" she cried delightedly. "Ye're here! But - where's Jamie?"
"He's safe, Rahne," said Sam. "We left him and Amara back with the rest of the dwarves. But where've you been all this time?"
"Out in these woods," she replied. "I hid here after those knights came after me." She paused. "Amara's with ye again?"
"Yeah," replied Sam. "It's kind of a long story, though. And it's why we're here." He suddenly remembered his guide, and glanced at once over at Ginnar. "Rahne, this is Ginnar Bivarson. He's one of the dwarves from Nidavellir." Turning to the dwarf, he added, "And this is Rahne Sinclair. She's one of my friends."
"You have made friends with a werewolf?" Ginnar all but sputtered.
"Rahne's not a werewolf," Sam replied. "Well, she kind of is one," he added, "but not that kind of werewolf. She's from back home, like me."
He was about to say more, when there came the noise of something large dashing through the trees towards them, and a great shadow loomed amid the forest gloom. Ginnar lifted his axe again. "This time it must be one of the monstrous wolves that dwell here," he said. "Now to deal with it!"
"No, wait!" cried Rahne at once. Even as she spoke, an enormous grey wolf emerged from the trees, coming into plain view. Ginnar prepared to lunge at it.
"He is nae an enemy!" Rahne cried. "He's a friend!"
"A friend?" asked Ginnar incredulously. The wolf was staring at both him and Sam suspiciously, but making no move as yet. "That beast is your friend?"
"His name's Hrimhari," said Rahne, "and he saved my life! Here, let me explain to him that ye're not the enemy!" And she shifted back into her wolf form, and began barking and growling to the large grey wolf. The wolf whom she had called Hrimhari listened, then barked and yipped at her back. The conversation-of-a-sort went on for a couple of minutes, before Rahne returned to her human form and spoke to them again.
"I explained it all to him," she said, "and convinced him that ye both come in peace. But why are ye here, anyway?" She looked more closely at Sam. "And, for that matter, what are ye doin', wearin' that armor? Ye look really weird in it."
"Well, it's like this," said Sam. "Amara's been turned into a dark elf by that food that she ate - you were right about it, by the way - and we have to find this enchanted fountain somewhere in the woods and use its waters to change her back into a human. The dwarves have her back in Nidavellir because she can't come into this place. All the trees are made out of iron, and iron's poison to her as long as she's a dark elf."
"And do ye know where this fountain might be?" Rahne asked.
"He does," said Sam, pointing to Ginnar. "At least, I hope that he does."
"Yes, I do," said Ginnar, a trifle sharply. "But I would still like to know what it is that you are doing, consorting with one of those wolves. They're dangerous beasts."
"Have ye ever met one o' the wolves in these parts?" Rahne asked him, looking him straight in the eye.
"I have never even set foot here before," said Ginnar. "No dwarf has visited the Iron Forest in many centuries. But our traditions are not false. The wolves of Jarnvith are perilous. Every dwarf in Nidavellir knows that."
"And how would ye know, if none o' yuir people hae even met a wolf here, for so long?" Rahne asked, her voice sounding very angry now. "Ye're condemnin' an entire species just because of some auld tradition! Suppose that yuir tradition turns out to be false, then what?"
"You are speaking of time-honored records passed from one generation of dwarves to another -" Ginnar began. But Rahne did not let him continue.
"We've got people like that back home, as well! Hatin' wolves and anythin' else that seems different from themselves, and comin' up with all sorts o' excuses for it! And that doesn't change the fact that they're wrong! Nae, it does not!"
"Good point," said Sam. "And he hasn't tried to eat us, either," he added, indicating Hrimhari as he spoke. "Oh, and one other thing. If you've never been in Jarnvith before, then how do you know where the Fountain of Lyfja is?"
"The book gave detailed instructions on how to find it," said Ginnar stiffly.
Hrimhari was watching the whole conversation, looking more than a little puzzled. "Excuse me for a moment," said Rahne. "I'll fill him in."
She shifted back to wolf-form, and barked at him for a couple of minutes. He replied with a few growls and whines of his own. After a bit more back- and-forth talk between them, Rahne returned to her human form, and spoke again.
"Hrimhari says that he knows where the Fountain of Lyfja can be found," she said. "He'll lead us there."
"He's doing that for us?" asked Sam.
"Well, for me, actually," said Rahne. "Let's do it, shall we?"
"I am not following a wolf of Jarnvith anywh-" Ginnar stopped in mid- sentence, as he realized that the two youngsters were already rushing off after Hrimhari, who was loping through the woods at a great pace. "Hey!" he shouted. "Wait for me!" And he ran off after the three of them.
* * *
It was after a while longer of running that they reached an open clearing, in the middle of which a natural spring gushed upwards. Hrimhari pointed at it with his snout, and barked once.
"This must be it," said Rahne. "Ye've got something to put the water in, I trust?"
Sam nodded, pulling a leather flask from his belt. "They gave it to us just before we left Nidavellir," he said. He dipped it into the water, then pulled it out and carefully screwed on the cap. "Yes, that should do it," he said. "Now, let's go back."
"With pleasure," said Ginnar sourly. He glanced at the grey wolf in such a way as to show that he still did not trust it. "I hope that you are not planning on bringing it back with us to Nidavellir," he added.
Rahne looked at him sharply again, but instead of arguing with him over it, turned back into a wolf and spoke to Hrimhari. *He still does not seem to like having you around,* she said.
*So I gathered,* Hrimhari replied. *I doubt that I will be going back with you to Nidavellir, in any case. I feel more at home in the woods, myself.*
*So what will you be doing now?* Rahne asked him.
*I will seek out the rest of my pack,* he answered. *There seems to be something brewing here. Svart alfar and jotnar are clearly in league now, from what I have seen and heard as yet, and the svart alfar have already made war upon the duergar, it would seem. I must inform my fellow wolves of this, and consult with them. I very much doubt that what is coming is only a matter of importance for the two-legs, and thus my family must be warned and prepared. Until then, I must bid you farewell.*
*Good-bye, then,* said Rahne. *And thank you for helping me.*
*You are most welcome, little one,* said Hrimhari in return. And with that, he walked away through the trees, and vanished into the gloom.
"All right, he's gone," said Ginnar. "Now let us return to Nidavellir ourselves, shall we? If we remain here, who knows what we might run into next?"
"He's got a point," said Sam. "Let's be on our way now, shall we? We've got to deliver this to Amara."
* * *
"Where are they?" Amara asked, pacing back and forth in the library.
"Patience, my lady," said King Eitri. He, Hlevang, and Jamie were all watching the transformed princess of Nova Roma, the three of them looking more than a little apprehensive. Amara had several times summoned up a small ball of fire in her hand, and looked more than half ready to throw it somewhere as a means of releasing her frustrations. Since they were in the middle of a library filled with old books, that was anything but reassuring to them.
"That's easy for you to say!" she cried. "You're not the one who's been turned into a dark elf!"
"No, but burning down this room will not help matters at all," said the dwarf-king.
"I am not planning to burn the library down," Amara protested.
"Then could you please extinguish the ball of fire in your hand?" Hlevang asked her. "We find it more than a little disconcerting."
Amara sighed, as she banished the fire. "Don't say anything!" she added, looking sharply at Jamie.
"I wasn't even going to," the boy began. Before he could defend himself further, however, there came a loud knock on the door.
"Yes?" asked King Eitri. "Who's there?"
"We have returned, my lord," said Ginnar's voice. "And we have the water from the fountain."
"Enter," said Eitri.
The door opened, and Ginnar, Sam, and Rahne trooped in. Amara and Jamie stared at the young werewolf as she entered, Jamie letting out a squeal of delight. "You're back!" he cried, rushing towards her.
"Hullo, Jamie," said Rahne. Then she stopped and stared at Amara. "What big eyes ye have!" she said in astonishment.
"I'm surprised that you, of all people, would be saying that," said the Nova Roman princess sharply. "And I hardly needed to hear it from you, or anyone else, anyway."
"But it's the truth," Rahne argued. "I didna think it possible that anyone's eyes could grow so large, except in anime!"
"Sam will probably have told you everything," said Amara. "And now, can we please have the water, without any more of this fuss?"
Sam handed the flask to her. "Drink up, Your Highness," he said to her.
Amara uncorked the flask, then raised it to her mouth. She drank the contents with a very unregal display of haste, then lowered it with a sigh. "This had better work," she said.
Even as she spoke, her facial features began to undergo a number of contortions. Amara let out a brief cry of pain before her eyes shrank down, her chin became less pointed, and her ears grew smaller. In another moment, she looked fully like herself again.
"Thank goodness that's over with," she said, feeling her face. "So I'm back to normal now, am I?"
"I suppose," said Sam. "I've got to admit, this was all easier than I thought it would be."
"We're nae done yet, though," said Rahne. "We still have to find the others, after all. And we have to find a way of getting back home, for that matter."
"But that's not all," said Sam. "I mean, in light of everything that we've heard, we seem to have some sort of big war on our hands. Dark elves, giants, and even this Loki guy - if that's who Ivar really was. They all seem to be up to something big."
"Hrimhari certainly seemed to believe it," agreed Rahne.
"Hrimhari?" asked King Eitri.
"You do not wish to know, my liege," said Ginnar. "Believe me when I say that unto you."
"So I'd say that we're going to have to help the folks here do something about it," said Sam. "Find out just what Loki's up to, and then stop him, as well as rescuing Bobby and the other kids from him. What do the rest of you think?"
"I'm for it," said Rahne.
"So am I," said Amara. "I've more than a few things to say to him for what he did to me."
"Jamie?" asked Sam.
The youngest of the New Mutants nodded. "Just as long as I don't get left behind again," he added.
"Good," said Sam. "Now let's see if we can figure out some sort of plan."