Episode One: The Horn: Scene 16

The local library wasn’t much for books on Norse mythology. Instead, I went to the MLK Library, which has just about everything and tons of reading space. I snagged a couple of books then headed up to the teen space, which was full, as usual, but I snagged a corner of a table.

Too late, I realized I still had the romance novel, so I shoved my bag under my seat and kept it closed. I wasn’t about to be seen with it anywhere I might be recognized. This was definitely a somewhere I might be recognized.

Books. The internet might have been faster, but I felt more comfortable, for this, with books. That was something else I hadn’t known how to use, but I’d learned, and some kids weren’t allowed to use the internet.

And maybe things were different wherever I was from. Tyr was the first thing I looked up.

The God of Justice. So determined he’d let Fenrir bite his hand off in order to bind the wolf…but had that been justice? Fenrir hadn’t done anything yet. A prophecy.

Hadn’t done anything yet. At the same time, there was something to said for sacrificing things for what’s right.

Tyr. Odin. Thor. Valkyries. I flicked through it, stopping on chapters that caught my eye, on illustrations.

Odin on his eight-legged steed, Sleipnir. Would eight legs really make a horse faster? I didn’t think so, but this was gods and magic and nothing of reality. It didn’t need to make sense and it did.



“I said your name three times.”

I turned a little. It was Kanesha. “Oh, hi. Sorry. Good book.”

“Norse mythology?”

“Hey, it’s interesting.” It was a shame I couldn’t take a high school test in it. Then I thought of Mr. Otter’s face.

And of Tyr, and thought that it might be far more important than a high school test.

From Kanesha, an unexpected peace offering, “Let’s go get a sandwich?”

That was unusual. Or maybe I’d pressed some button, come across some shared interest. “Okay.”

“There was this weird guy asking after you.”

“Tell him to shove off.”

“I did. He called himself Otter.”

“Oh. Joy. Him. He’s a nutjob,” I informed her. “Ignore him. He’ll go away sooner or later.”

Or would he? If he was bugging my friends…or at least housemates…then I wanted him to disappear. Stat.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *