‘Don’t try to think,’ I said, and cast Bjarkán, the rune of true vision. It revealed a shielded signature – the colours of which I recognized immediately. ‘That signature belongs to Thrym, one of the chieftains of the Ice Folk. He must have found his way in here – he likes to travel in eagle form – and stolen it when you were asleep.’ I looked at Heimdall. ‘Where were you? Drunk again? Gods, the security in this place . . .’

‘Watch your tongue,’ Heimdall growled. ‘Or I may relieve you of it.’

I arched an eyebrow. ‘Go ahead. Enjoy yourself while you still can. Because as soon as the news gets out that Thor’s lost his hammer, we’re going to get pounded on all sides by every little warlord who fancies his chances against us.’

There was silence, as everyone realized that I was right.

I turned to Freyja. ‘Your falcon cloak.’

She nodded. Even she knew what would happen if Mjølnir were lost. It wasn’t just the hammer, but the loss of credibility. Odin’s empire was built on bluff and the knowledge that no one dared to strike, but our enemies were like wolves around a bonfire: at bay, but let them scent blood, just once, and they’d be on us before we knew it.

Odin watched as I flung on the cloak. ‘Talk to Thrym,’ he told me. ‘Find out what he wants from us. And, Loki – please. Be careful.’

I was surprised. It had to be the first time that the Old Man had shown any interest in my personal safety. I guessed he knew they’d need my skills if they were to retrieve the hammer. I’ll admit, I felt rather flattered; Odin had put his trust in me, and I was looking forward to showing him what I was capable of. And so I flew to the Northlands and found old Thrym in his courtyard, making collars for his hounds and looking very pleased with himself.

I flew down to join him and perched on a branch, just out of reach of his big hands.

‘Loki,’ he said, and showed his teeth. ‘You’re looking very chirpy today. How are the Aesir? The Vanir?’

‘Not so good,’ I told him. ‘Not now you’ve stolen Thor’s hammer.’

Thrym gave a broad grin. ‘Have I?’ he said.

‘I thought you knew better than this, Thrym,’ I said. ‘Do you really want to see the whole of the Nine Worlds at war over a hammer? It won’t just be Asgard in trouble, you know. What you’ve done is likely to destabilize Order and Chaos. You’ll have Lord Surt on your doorstep before you can say “death wish”. So give Thor back his hammer, and we can all go back to staying alive. What do you say?’

He grinned again. ‘I don’t want Thor’s hammer.’

‘That’s nice. So what do you want?’