‘I’m in love,’ he said.

I cursed. ‘Oh, gods. Not you as well?’

‘I’ve buried the hammer in World Below. You’ll never find it in time,’ he said. ‘But you can have it back as soon as I get the Goddess of Desire as my bride. You have nine days to deliver.’

Freyja! Gods. I should have known. That woman was nothing but trouble. So I flew back to Asgard as fast as I could – time was short – and found the Thunderer waiting, rather impatiently, in his hall.

I took off Freyja’s feather cloak, ready to drop with exhaustion.

‘Well?’ said Thor.

‘Well, a drink would be nice. I’ve been flying for days, you know.’

Thor grabbed me by the throat. ‘Well?’

‘Well,’ I said. ‘I talked to Thrym. And he’s happy to return the hammer, on condition that we agree to give him Freyja as his bride.’

Thor gave the matter some three seconds’ thought, then said: ‘Fine. We’ll tell her.’

We called a meeting of the gods – all of them – in Odin’s hall. ‘There’s good news and slightly less good news,’ I said. ‘The good news is, I persuaded Thrym to give back Mjølnir. The slightly more ambivalent news is . . .’ I smiled dazzlingly at Freyja. ‘Now, before you shoot me down in flames—’

‘You’d better not be about to say what I think you’re about to say,’ said the Goddess of Desire, through her teeth.

‘Ah, come on,’ I said. ‘Be fair. Thrym’s a decent guy at heart. And he’s a king, for gods’ sakes. It’s not like I’m trying to pair you up with a labourer. Think about it. You’ll be Queen of the Ice Folk. You’ll have a crown of diamonds and a wedding dress of mink.’

She gave me one of her looks. ‘No. I’d rather go to war.’

‘With what? Thrym has Mjølnir, in case you’d forgotten.’

‘I don’t care. I’m not marrying one of the Ice People. They’re ugly, and uncouth, and all of them smell of fish.’

‘What’s wrong with the smell of fish?’ said Njörd.

Freyja looked appealingly at Odin. ‘You can’t want me to do this,’ she said, fluttering her eyelashes.

But since the business with Dvalin and the necklace, Odin had been a lot less indulgent with Freyja. Most of the time he didn’t let his anger show, but I knew him too well to misread the signs.

‘We need the hammer, Freyja,’ he said.

‘Meaning you don’t need me?’ She started to cry, which was her usual way of dealing with adversity. In this instance, no one seemed to care much. Freyja dried her tears. ‘I see. You’d rather see me sold, like a whore.’

I hid a grin behind my hand, but not before she’d seen it.