He looked at me with his one blue eye. ‘I mean it, Trickster. What have you heard?’

‘Nothing. Nothing important,’ I said. ‘Just some stuff about trees.’

‘Trees?’

‘Well, Yggdrasil,’ I said.

The blue eye narrowed. Now it looked like a razor blade pushed into his cheekbone.

‘Something’s coming, isn’t it?’ I said. ‘Did the Oracle prophesy?’

He gave a smile. Not a pleasant one. ‘Never mind the Oracle. Knowledge doesn’t bring happiness. As for the World Tree, forget it. Just because it loses some leaves doesn’t mean it’s dying.’

Leaves?

Gods, I hated it when the Old Man went cryptic on me. I thought of what the birds had said. The Ash, Yggdrasil, quakes where it stands. Well, that might explain the falling leaves. On the other hand, metaphorically, we were the leaves on Yggdrasil. I didn’t like the sound of that.

‘All right,’ I said. ‘No more questions.’ (In fact, he’d answered all of mine.)

He seemed to relax a little at that. His Aspect went back to normal again, leaving him looking grey and old.

‘You’re looking tired,’ I told him.

‘I haven’t been sleeping much lately.’

‘Well, if you ever need to talk . . .’ I began.

He gave me the evil eye again.

‘Fine,’ I said. ‘I get it.’

‘Just as long as you do,’ he said.

Lesson 4 Destiny

LESSON 4

Destiny

A man too often meets his Fate whilst running to avoid it.

Lokabrenna

WELL, I TRIED. I really did. But I was far from being reassured. All that talk about Yggdrasil; the Oracle; prophetic dreams . . .

It made me nervous. I needed to know. And so, one night, when my nerves were so drawn I was close to combusting, I went in secret to the spring where Odin kept what was left of Mimir’s Head and looked into the water.

Yes, I know it was dangerous. But I was feeling vulnerable. The coldness of the Aesir; Odin’s refusal to trust in me. I needed a friend like never before.

Instead, I got the Whisperer.

From its cradle of runelight, Mimir’s Head looked back at me. I’ll admit it was alarming. Over the years, the living Head had calcified, becoming stone, although the face was still mobile, expressing amusement and vague contempt.

‘Ha! I thought you’d come,’ it said.

‘You did?’

‘Of course. I’m an Oracle.’

I frowned at the submerged Head. I knew him by reputation but I’d never known Mimir in life. It now occurred to me that I wouldn’t have liked him any more in his original Aspect than I did in his current form.

He eyed me disapprovingly.

‘So you’re the Trickster,’ he commented. ‘I knew you’d come round here eventually. If Odin finds out, you’re toast, of course. He’ll kick you to one end of Asgard and back. He’ll throw you off Bif-rost and watch you bounce.’