Muspelheim. Fire is water. A dead apple tree.

 

What if the fire giants were losing their immortality? That would certain explain Surtur’s desperation.

 

But why? The chain was a weapon.

 

A war. A civil war. Or rather something factional. I’d already seen the edges of it. Maybe part of why he wanted me was as a way to not choose a bride from any of those factions, not to take sides.

 

But Angrboda might be right. He wanted apples, thinking that would fix it.

 

Lugh clearly did not want…or no, he had wanted to show me that. Unless Odin had interrupted whatever he had planned, moved me somewhere else.

 

Entirely possible.

 

So.

 

Would Odin care if Muspelheim died. Yes, because then the fire giants, with nothing to lose, would start the final war.

 

And Loki might join in if he thought Midgard was dying too. And maybe…

 

Maybe if one realm died it would take others with it. Maybe Ragnarok needed to happen to restore them.

 

Would I start it if it was…if everyone was going to die anyway? I frowned, because part of me was saying that it did not matter at that point.

 

That rebirth was better than a cold decline into death under brilliant stars. Of course it was.

 

But stopping the decline was better.

 

Of course it was.

 

Assuming that was the way my thoughts should go, I had to make a decision. Stealing apples for Surtur seemed likely to start the war for different reasons, in a different way.

 

Maybe I could get dad to do it. It would be expected from him.

 

No.

 

I wanted to ask Angrboda what gave immortality to the giants. It wasn’t the golden apples. But she had already left. I had to find out, anyway, from a fire giant. One of the nice kids I’d bumped into.

 

Kids.

 

Kids who deserved a future. I frowned again.

 

Okay, what was the most likely reason why Muspelheim would be dying? A lack of fire. Fires going out.

 

If fire was water there, then that would be like emptying an aquifer.
And combat could use up fire, use up energy faster than it was supposed to. The slingshot chain.

 

To say I liked this idea would be wrong, like when Facebook only allowed you to like the news of your friend’s wife getting cancer.

 

Liked, definitely not the right word. Hated. But it felt right. It fit everything except the cold stars.

 

The cold star nymph.

 

Who was she? I’d find out one day, I suspected. Or maybe she had merely been an idea. A metaphor. Perhaps even an echo of myself.

 

“If Muspelheim is low on fire, how do I give it more?”
Kanesha frowned. “The apples increase…”

 

“…life force. He’s hoping they’ll supercharge some of the fire giants so as to add more energy back into the system.”

 

I wasn’t sure he was right, but it felt very much like a way that could be seen as working. By a certain logic. Then I frowned. “They’d die.”

 

Surtur would…

 

Then I frowned more. “Not fire giants. Himself. He intends to sacrifice himself.”

 

“Which would solve the problem of him starting Ragnarok.”

 

“Not if Ragnarok is caused by him stealing the apples.”

 

It all fit together now.

 

All of it.

 

I felt sorry for him. But I was not sure how to help.

 

The burgers were every bit as good as they smelled, and the root beer was probably nearly as good as the actual beer.

 

While we munched, I filled Angrboda in on the riddle.

 

“Muspelheim is where fire flows like water.” She shuddered. “I couldn’t even set foot there. I’d melt. Literally.”

 

I nodded. “I seem to have picked up more fire nature than ice.”

 

“Oh, definitely, and you’ve been there.”

 

I nodded again. “Quite…”

 

“Comfortable. Homely.” She frowned. “Ah well. You’re fiery for a reason.”

 

“I managed fine in Jotunheim too, but…”

 

“You’ll never be happy there, I don’t think. It’s fine. We can always meet up at a dwarven inn.”

 

I laughed. “Or here.” I frowned. “What do you think it all means.”

 

“Surtur told you Muspelheim was dying.”

 

I tried to remember when I’d told her that. I drew a blank. I obviously had, but I must have been drunk.

 

“Right. Which means…”

 

“A dead apple tree, or not quite dead. But that’s more about Asgard.”

 

I nodded. “But Surtur seemed to think I could…you think it’s connected to what he thinks?”

 

“He might think he needs some apples of youth to restore things. And that you could get them for him.”

 

“And he’d never ask Odin.” I glanced at Kanesha.

 

“What if he does?”

 

“I don’t know.” I frowned. “I mean, I don’t want an entire realm to die. Any realm. Surtur’s not the only person who lives there, after all.”

 

“Good,” Angrboda said. “But if you start taking responsibility for Muspelheim…” She tailed off.

 

I shuddered. “I ain’t taking charge. With him or without him.”

 

But I didn’t want the place to turn into some kind of black desert with dead trees. I thought of what I had glimpsed.

 

Trees with flowers of fire.

 

Rivers of lava.

 

It was beautiful. But…

 

“But you still want to save the place.”

 

“It’s beautiful,” I admitted. “Maybe not to you.”

 

She laughed sharply. “No, not to me. But I’m not you. I’m just an old frost giant, and kind of set in her ways anyway.”

 

“An old frost giant who likes to get people drunk.”

 

She didn’t deny it. Meeting her, though? This was the kind of not normal I didn’t mind at all.

 

Especially as she paid for the burgers.
And did not start a bar fight. This time.

 

Things were going well, and I was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

 

Or maybe the other frost giant. She showed up on a great hog of a Harley that seemed to actually be a Harley, not some kind of illusion.

 

Pulled up next to us. I tried not to laugh. “Oh dear.”

 

Hand signals.

 

“Should I follow her?”

 

“There’s probably illegal alcohol wherever she’s going,” I said to Kanesha, who was driving.

 

Kanesha laughed. “Well, we don’t have to actually drink it.”

 

I considered. “I have never yet managed to spend more than five minutes with Angrboda without getting drunk.”

 

“There’s something about drinking with your dad’s ex.”

 

“I think that’s why she does it.” I was pretty convinced that Angrboda thought the awkward feeling she gave me was quite amusing. “But I also told her I’m not getting drunk here. And if we go somewhere else you’ll get poisoned.”

 

She laughed again. “Maybe we can get an alcohol tolerance spell for me.”

 

I thought about that. “That might not be impossible.”

 

Angrboda pulled in at what was obviously a biker bar. I rolled down the window. “I said I’m not drinking with you.”

 

She grinned. “You’d be surprised how good the food is here. Come on.”

 

Well, as long as she didn’t try to get me to underage-drink. Not that they could arrest her, but they could arrest Kanesha.

 

Kanesha locked the car and we followed her inside. Of course, Angrboda would take us to a biker bar. But I could immediately smell the sweet smell of really good burgers.

 

“What do you want? Did you get dumped again?”

 

She shook her head. “Checking on you. Heard you had problems with our rivals.”

 

“I did. But it’s resolved for now. The boss talked to him.”

 

She grinned and claimed a table. A table because even in disguise, she was still big enough not to fit into the booth. And that was assuming it was shapeshifting not glamor.

 

I rather thought it was shapeshifting. But I hopped onto a seat opposite her. “I get the feeling this place is for burgers.”

 

“And beer, but you’re missing out. Silly girl, abiding by…”

 

“The law. Because I’d rather get arrested for something that achieves something than for drinking.” I grinned back at her. “So, this is a social call.”

 

She studied Kanesha for a moment before answering. “You girls are on your own without your normal support network. Somebody should check on you every couple of days.”

 

She probably had a point, but I didn’t want to admit I needed to be checked on. “We can look after ourselves. We handled the fairies.”

 

“Eh. Fairies. Not too hard to deal with if you understand how they operate.”

 

I reckoned she was right. “Just don’t start a bar fight.”

 

Her grin became feral. “Why not?”

 

“Because,” Kanesha said firmly, “I want one of those burgers.”

 

“So, what did you see?” the traffic cop asked.

 

“Saw the truck start to waver, slowed up, realized it was going to jackknife. Lucky we weren’t closer,” I told him.

 

“You definitely were at that. He had a blow out.”

 

I nodded. Not a surprise. That was what caused things like this. But couldn’t I go anywhere…if it wasn’t mystical shenanigans it was mundane ones.

 

Had somebody Chinese cursed me? I was starting to wonder about it. Surtur might have cursed me or got somebody to. Just something to make my life miserable and keep me distracted.

 

But it could just have been a coincidence. Something which happened every day.

 

I couldn’t escape the feeling, though. That wherever I went I would put people in danger. As long as I stayed on Midgaard.

 

But I was not going with that…that…uncouth fire giant. Even if it wasn’t for everything else, he…

 

…annoyed me. I brushed back my hair.

 

“You look annoyed.”

 

“Just the delay.” I let out a breath. “My vacation isn’t going well. Although not as bad as some people’s.”

 

The poor woman with the burned wedding gifts, for example.

 

“It happens. We’ll have one lane clear in about thirty minutes.”

 

Then he went to talk to somebody else. Just a blow out, not the driver’s fault.

 

Nobody’s fault. Unless it was mine. Well, one way or another, this situation would not last forever. I was determined of that.

 

If I had to beat Surtur up, pin him down and extract a promise to leave me alone under pain of final death, I would.

 

That might even work, I mused. Oaths under duress were not binding, but he might respect me enough to make one anyway. And if it was not my task to kill him, he was certainly making it my task to stop him.

 

“Want me to drive?” Kanesha offered.

 

“If you’re up to it.”

 

The delay made for a late lunch. We decided to just grab snacks and go right through to dinner.

 

But I thought about the woman with the wedding presents.

 

And, oddly, about the fact that, by some miracle, nobody had died.

 

Heading north again, and I had managed to put it out of my mind for now. He was right. The more I worried at the problem, the further from a solution I would get.

 

Back of my mind. Front of my mind occupied by driving, and the road ahead of us. Hawks soared above, hoping for roadkill. I did see a crow, but no ravens.

 

Odin was leaving me alone. I was glad of that. I wanted to be left alone, to be left with my fantasy of being a normal person.

 

Not a metaphor.

 

Not a symbol.

 

Not a goddess.

 

Something alerted me and I hit the brakes. “What?”

 

Then Kanesha saw what I had heard or sensed, a truck jack knifing across the road in front of us. I managed to get us onto the shoulder, stopped, out of the way.

 

“Ow.”

 

That was one word for it. Inevitably, several cars hit the truck or each other, forming a pileup.

 

“We should go help.”

 

She nodded to me. “We should.”

 

Unspoken was how useful my strength might be to get people out of damaged vehicles. I turned the car off, hopped out, and started to jog towards the accident. I glanced over my shoulder. Kanesha had her phone out, perhaps not wanting to assume anybody else had dialed 911.

 

Given one of the cars was smoking and starting to burn I reckoned we needed the fire department. I headed towards that one first. There was a woman trapped inside, she was struggling with her seatbelt.

 

The door was privacy locked. I didn’t let that stop me get it off. I could already tell her right leg was broken.

 

“Let me help you out.”

 

She looked like she was panicking, but I supported her clear of the vehicle before the fire turned into a small explosion. Gas tank, no doubt.

 

“Blast it…the wedding presents…”

 

“Are replaceable,” I reminded her gently. “Sit down.”

 

She sank to the ground. “My girlfriend already called for an ambulance.”

 

I wasn’t the only person helping. Some people, though, were just standing there watching as if they had no clue what to do.

 

Then two cars hit each other on the other carriageway, drivers too busy looking at the accident and not the road. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes.

 

Well, all I could do was offer what help I could.

 

When we all stopped laughing. “It’s Celtic mythology, not Norse.”

 

“Then explain the chains. Or did I put that in myself?”

 

“Lugh’s chain,” Kanesha said quietly. “It’s a sling.”

 

“Hrm.”

 

“Made of stars,” she added.

 

“That would mean a set down weapon and mean peace,” I mused. “Unless I did put it in there. And the stars follow the theme.”

 

“Maybe you need to set down a weapon.”

 

“I don’t think,” I told Kanesha, “My sword would be inclined to agree.”

 

“True.”

 

Loki sighed. “Lugh thinks you will start Ragnarok. He thinks that will affect him – which it might, depending on how it really affects the Earth, where myths overlap. But you saw the chain as…”

 

“I saw it as the chain binding Fenrir.”

 

He flinched at the name. “You saw it as something holding back destruction. He would see it as a weapon. Which is…”

 

“…exactly the thing. The prophecy may say I start Ragnarok or it may say I prevent it. Or hold it back.”

 

“Right. So it was a metaphor. The chain, that is.” Loki smiled at me. “You passed one test seeing it as a chain.”

 

I snorted “Not really. I didn’t know that Lugh used a chain to throw slingstones until just now. Or remember, anyway.”

 

Kanesha sighed. “The tree, though.”

 

“The tree is immortality. The food of the gods. If it dies, we starve.” I glanced at Loki.

 

“Right. But the other thing that feeds the gods is human belief. It could represent that, the embers of faith in us only starting to brighten again. Which would be another fear of Lugh.”

 

I let out a breath. “So, this could just be an insight into his head. Odin was talking to him anyway.”

 

“Odin got him to leave you alone, for now. If he sees one sign of you moving towards starting Ragnarok any time soon, though…”

 

“That’s fair. But I’m also supposed to fix the dang tree.”

 

“It’s a metaphor,” Loki said. “Put it where metaphors belong. In the back of your mind.”

 

He had, I thought, a very definite point.

 

Not that I was convinced.

 

A metaphor.

 

I was a metaphor for what? The fire of war. The end. If I was nothing but a metaphor, then they were right to fear me. I couldn’t stand the thought of going back on the road. Instead, we found a small park, and I stood, alone, watching some kids play while Kanesha did research on her phone.

 

I should get her a cellular capable tablet, I thought, so she’d have the larger screen. For right now, though…I had decided that for a trickster’s daughter I was pretty bad at riddles.

 

Why was it an apple tree?

 

A threat specifically to the gods. Surtur starting a war.

 

Wait.

 

“Kanesha? What else do apples represent.”

 

She frowned. “Temptation, sin, knowledge, immortality.”

 

“From Eden. I get that. What else?”

 

“Hrm. Love. Apples are also symbols of love, so…”

 

“A not quite dead apple tree could indicate an apparently dead relationship that needs rekindling.”

 

“Yeah, it could. But what relevance does that have, and who has a dead relationship that needs saving?”

 

“Nobody we know. Wait.” I had a thought. “One of the feats of Loki is rescuing Idunn, without whom the apples die.”

 

“Right, when she was abducted by a giant. And Idunn is married to…” Tap tap tap. “Bragi. The one Aesir who does not look young. By choice.”

 

“I think we’re heading off down a research siding,” I mused. “Although I’ve never, to remember, spoken to Idunn.”

 

“But her absence results in dead trees in the lore, right?”

 

“Right. But there’s somebody else with an apple association.” Kanesha looks up at me. “Your sister.”

 

“Huh.” A pause. “I still think it’s some kind of generic immortality association. I need to talk to somebody who knows what’s going on in Asgard.”

 

“That doesn’t mean me,” came a familiar voice. “Haven’t actually been there in months.”

 

I rolled my eyes. “Hello, father.”

 

“So formal.”

 

“Given I’m supposed to be solving a metaphor involving dead apple trees, stars, and fire bringing life.”

 

He snorted. “Celts. They do love their riddles.”

 

“What are apples in Celtic lore?”

 

“Same thing. Food of the gods. Or possibly the dead,” Kanesha supplied.

 

“Well, last I saw her, Idunn was in her garden and…well, actually, she was throwing apple cores at me, so not exactly happy.”

 

I rolled my eyes. “You probably deserved it.”

 

“I only complimented her hair!”

 

“You deserved it.” A pause. “Are you going to help me with the riddle or are you just here to be annoying.”

 

“You were going off on a very entertaining sideline. I’m tempted to say carry on.”

 

I scowled at him and put my hands on my hips. “I know you can’t solve it for me, but if you aren’t going to be useful, why don’t you go shapeshift into an eagle and chase rabbits or something.”

 

“You’re growing up.”

 

Kanesha pretended to hit him. He laughed and pretended to dodge.

 

Even if he didn’t help, he’d at least cheered me up.

 

“So,” she said. “A dead apple tree under a sky full of cold stars, a single mountain, and Fenris’ chain.”

 

I nodded. “And the star told me it was a metaphor.” I didn’t repeat the part about me being a metaphor and a living being both. I was not entirely sure how I felt about that.

 

“Well, Fenris’ chain is Ragnarok, apples are associated with immortality.”

 

“So I think it’s a metaphor for Ragnarok.” A pause. “Is there another good explanation?”

 

She frowned. “It’s a metaphor for bad things happening to Asgard, at least.”

 

I nodded. “And fire is water and water is fire?”

 

“Muspelheim would be the place where fire is water.”

 

“Surtur told me Muspelheim is dying and Ragnarok can save it.” And I understood. Rebirth.

 

He didn’t care of the rest of the realms died as long as he saved his.

 

He didn’t even care for his own honor any more, or maybe he had decided his people were more important.

 

“So, if the dead tree represents Asgard.”

 

“The implication is that the apple tree can’t survive where fire is water and water fire, and thus…the gods are no longer immortal.”

 

She nodded. “So, you have to change it back. Or change the tree.”

 

“Change the…no. It’s a metaphor, remember. But the tree can’t change.”

 

“The rules can.”

 

I nodded. “Muspelheim is supposed to be a place where fire is water, but when the end comes, Muspelheim’s fire consumes other realms. Because those other realms…” I tailed off. “Grrr. It makes sense and doesn’t all at the same time.”

 

“You need something that counters Muspelheim’s fire.”

 

“Jotunheim’s ice? I have frost giant in me too…it’s just…not dominant.”

 

“It’s probably why you don’t need a jacket.”

 

I laughed. “Maybe Angrboda would…but no, why would she…”

 

“Not be in favor of her son being released.” Kanesha lifted her head. “Has she tried to talk you into starting Ragnarok?”

 

I considered that, then shook my head. “Not once, not at all.”

 

“Her sons are bound. Her daughter is a queen.”

 

And I thought about that and Angrboda and nodded. “But her daughter remains a queen.”

 

“Her daughter is death.”

 

I shuddered. “My sister is death. But…it’s a matter of bringing back normalcy to some pocket dimension as a test to see whether I can stop Ragnarok.”

 

She frowned, then, “Perhaps it is.”

 

The chain was thick enough to hold a giant in full giant form. I was not surprised to find it.

 

I knew where it would be.

 

But the burned tree was an apple, not an ash. Not the world tree.

 

The tree of immortality.
What did that imply? It implied that…no.

 

All a metaphor. The chain was a metaphor too. And I had been sent here in chains.

 

Which was why I picked up the cold links. Very cold. As cold as the starlight.

 

Fire wanted to respond.
Fire did not only destroy. I told myself that firmly before I let a little of it, just a little, out.

 

Just enough to warm myself against the cold, but the chain turned to red hot links and then melted away.

 

Okay, maybe that had been a bad idea, but where the melted metal touched the ground, it started to turn green.

 

I laughed. “Fire is water here and water is fire, is that it?”

 

But I knew I couldn’t fix it from here. I’d been told that. I followed the line of the chain and then I saw it.

 

A crack in the ground.

 

A way out. I knew it was.

 

Fire water, water fire. But too much of either could destroy.

 

Both in balance was life.

 

Maybe that was what I was supposed to learn.

 

There was one chain link remaining. I left it behind and touched the crack. It opened and I fell through it…

 

…and landed at Kanesha’s feet.

 

“Whoah.”

 

“You’re back.”

 

“Not…entirely. Got something to take care of.” I struggled up. “You’re the smart one. Maybe you can help me with it. Did he…”

 

“Odin’s ravens mobbed him and drove him off in that direction. I think for a chat.”

 

“Alright. I have to water a tree in a realm where fire is water and water is fire, but if I…”

 

“…I’m lost. Let’s get some food.”

 

Discussing it over food was suddenly very appealing.