IT WAS A VERY SMALL REVENGE, but it pleased me, nevertheless. I hadn’t been planning to challenge the gods, just cause as much distress as I could without arousing suspicion. And the business of Freyja’s necklace had already caused its share of distress – to Freyja and the Vanir, of course, but also to Heimdall, whose position of trust I’d undermined; to Frigg, Odin’s wife, whose loyalty had taken a hit; and, of course, to Odin himself, who had revealed himself to be an old fool of the most classic kind, losing his head over a girl.

And the greatest thing about it? They’d brought their sorrow on themselves. All I did was tell the truth and let their nature do the rest. Greed, hatred, jealousy – all the corrupting emotions with which Odin had infected me – coming home like pigeons to roost. I tell you, it was beautiful.

But that was only the start of it. An appetizer, if you like. One day I meant to have them all at my feet, begging for help, just so I could kick them aside and laugh as they went tumbling . . .

Still, all in good time, I told myself. It takes more than a couple of stones to bring down an enemy fortress. And I had all the time in the Worlds to bring the Old Man to his knees. I decided to play it safe for a while, to try and play at being one of the guys until a new opportunity arose. As for Odin, as far as he was concerned, I’d paid him back for Brokk and the awl, and now he figured we were square.

But as time passed, I realized that the business with Freyja had changed him. He became increasingly moody and withdrawn. He’d always been fond of travelling but now he left Asgard more often than ever – alone, except for Sleipnir, his horse – and often for weeks and months on end. No one knew where he went during those long absences, but I knew he favoured the Middle Worlds, and most especially Inland, where he walked unseen and in disguise and the Folk told all kinds of tales about him.

True, he spread most of them himself, posing as a travelling storyteller, but he liked them anyway, and he enjoyed the way in which the Folk expressed their devotion. What he enjoyed less was the fact that Thor was by far the more popular, at least as far as the Folk were concerned. I suspect there may have been a little friction between father and son; Thor’s muscle provided excellent protection for Asgard, but secretly Odin was dismayed that he and his son were so different. As for his youngest son, Balder – well. Frigg adored him, but Odin – well. Suffice it to say that whenever Balder was around, Odin always found an excuse to be somewhere else.