No sooner had Asmundre climbed aboard the mechanical beast, than he fell fast asleep. The rocking motion of their travel lulled him into a deep slumber in which he dreamed he was back at his home, and in his dream Lillian came in while he was building the fire, because their father thought it terribly cold and try as he might could not rub the blue out of his fingers, and when she walked in she was studded with needles, like one of those sharp little hogs that rutted about in the junk. Except hedgehogs weren’t usually dripping with blood.

Asmundre woke with a start and almost fell off the beast. Night had fallen. Asmundre lay across the wide back of the giant’s mount, the giant in front of him and Yohan behind, snoring softly but still sitting upright. He tried to shake the image of those needles out of his mind.

The giant looked over her shoulder and smiled at him, exposing two rows of pointed silver teeth. On the top. Up close, she definitely had a certain femininity, but it was so subtle that if Yohan hadn’t pointed it out Asmundre didn’t think he would have noticed. Giants were not how the stories described them. She was more or less man shaped, just way too large; but also, her arms were too long, she had no visible ears, and instead of hair, a short coat of white and black fur. And then there were the teeth. She wore a bandoleer studded with metal shells and loose pants tucked into thick leather boots, and otherwise just her fur.

“Awake, are?” she asked.

“Yeah. I think.” None of it felt real. If Yohan hadn’t come up with that vial of blood, they’d still be on the other side of the wall and - crushed by Thorn Hammer and Feyr’s Dart probably.

“Wall tongue not great,” she said, eyes back on their path forward. The beast lumbered on at a slow but steady pace, much faster than he and Yohan would have been on foot. “People same, though. You easy read. You tell Kathuk about problem.”

“Uh, Kathuk?” Where had Yohan got that vial?

She beat a hand against her chest. “Me Kathuk.”

“Oh, right. I’m Asmundre.”

“Asmundre,” she said. “Strong Jotnar name.”

All around them, the trees closed in, blocking out the stars above. Nights on the junk were clear, and he’d often gazed up at the stars while his father pointed out the constellations - all manner of ancient heroes and beasts - but here, he caught hardly a glimpse between the leaves. “Are there really Jotnar out here?”

Kathuk nodded. “You ride Jotnar.”

“No, I -”

She patted the beasts shoulder.

Oh.

“Kitten little Jotnar. Larger out there. Many larger. This Jotnar land. Akkana Nak, call it. Sometime, Nortak Akkattakk Akk Nak Othaknak.”

“That’s a lot of Ks.”

Kathuk laughed. “Yes many K.” When she smiled, she seemed to have even more teeth; and all of them were pointy. “You have problem. You tell it.”

Ah, right. “It’s my sister.”

“Sister is problem?”

“No. She was taken by a pair of Midgard called - uh, Jorge and Hugo, I think. I thought I’d killed them, but that was just some - thugs? I guess.”

Kathuk nodded, rubbing her chin. “Quest, then? Brought her outside wall?”

“I don’t think so. To Valhalla, probably, but -” He shrugged.

“Hmmm,” Kathuk rumbled, deep and purr-like. “Why you no go to Valhalla?”

Now there was a good question. “I want to, but -” But he’d just die. He’d be crushed. There were too many of them. He was just one boy with a mech he could barely drive. Asmundre hung his head. “I can’t. I don’t know what to do yet. Yohan is right, it would be suicide.”

Lights appeared in the forest around them. First a few, then many, then they emerged from the trees into a wide clearing with a glittering pond in the center and a dozen or more massive huts lurking at the edges. Huts were what they looked like to Asmundre, but he could imagine no other structure than a hut made of sticks and mud - these structures were as far from huts as the factories of Valhalla from his father’s workshop. Multiple stores, jutting with logs and slanted roofs. The walls might be mud and obviously so, but swirls of color and bright stones sparked on every surface and the windows glowed with internal light. And they were enormous.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

Kathuk pulled Kitten to a stop and swung down, cracking her back. Others her size moved amongst the houses, by the pond, into the trees beyond.

“What, are we there?” Yohan croaked. His hand clamped down on Asmundre’s shoulder.

“Is this Bried?”

“Nah,” Yohan said. “This is that village I saw. Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

Kathuk reached up, offering Asmundre a hand down - but when he took it, the giant grabbed him under the arms and lifted him down like a child, depositing him onto the dirt floor of the clearing. Yohan suffered the same treatment without complaint.

What looked big from atop the mechanical beast became huge from the ground. He had to look up and up at Kathuk, at a tiny head perched atop a mountain of fur. A group of smaller ones - a relative term - peered at them from around the corner of one of the wood and mud houses. At least three of them, in as many colors of fur, with eyes as big as plates. As a group, they scuttled forward, two smaller ones hiding behind the largest of them; though even they were a head taller than Asmundre.

“Thank you for the ride Kathuk.” Yohan shook the giant’s hand. “You’re sure we can go with you in the morning?”

“Of course,” the giant said, beaming. “Until then, enjoy hostility of village.”

Beaming as well, Yohan led the way toward the pond at the center of the village. A great communal fire pit lay on the shore there, and the site of it was enough to make Asmundre’s stomach churn. He hadn’t eaten in more than twenty four hours and his gut took the opportunity to remind him of that fact.

“Did she say hostility?”

“She meant hospitality,” Yohan growled. His smile had vanished as soon as they left Kathuk behind. “These giants make up their surplus of size with a lack of brains. Keep an eye on them.”

The children veered toward them and intercepted their path, but shied away from actually impeding them, the two smaller ones ducking from behind their larger companion to peer at the visitors, then hiding again, like some massive game of peek-a-boo. The elder of them said something with far too many Ks in it.

“Gods damned fur balls,” Yohan muttered.

Down by the pond, they found over-sized logs, split in twain, arranged before the fire pit. Maybe not too large for the giants that lingered around, but Asmundre’s feet didn’t touch the ground. “They seem nice enough.”

“Aye, nice. But in a dumb way.” Yohan went off toward the fire.

His attitude seemed harsh. Nothing about these giants came off as particularly dumb.

Yohan came back with two massive bowls, a tiny scoop of some sort of mush in the bottom of each. Maybe not that tiny, just compared to the bowl. Asmundre had to sit it in his lap and wrap an arm all the way around it.

“When we get to Bried, then what?”

Yohan grunted, fingers alternating between the gruel and his mouth.

Asmundre was no stranger to eating goo, but for the moment he ignored his bowl. “When we get to Bried, what will we do? You’ve got a plan, don’t you?”

He’d better have a plan.

“Of course I got a plan,” Yohan said around a mouthful of mush.

Asmundre waited. Then, “What is it?”

Yohan scowled. “I told you. We’re going to Bried.”

Asmundre couldn’t help but be terse. “Yes, and when we get there?”

Yohan sighed and set his bowl down on the ground, then leaned close. He glanced around them, as if there was anyone there but the giants that came and went from the fire, ignoring them save for the occasional look and toothy grin.

“Okay,” the former Midgard said. “But you got to keep quiet about this, okay? These giants are dumb as rocks and the universal thing about morons is they run their mouths. We don’t want anyone knowing why we are going to Bried - so don’t tell any of them anything. Don’t tell them about your sister or anything, okay?”

Ah. Well, Asmundre could keep his mouth shut.

“Especially not Kathy.”

His gruel suddenly became very unappetizing.

“It’s bad enough she knows about Blood Fist.” Yohan scowled off to the side for a moment, grinding his teeth. “But nothing we can do about that right? See, I was supposed to meet someone in Bried. That’s where I was going before I crashed in your junk pile. Benthix.”

Huh? “Is that a swear?”

Yohan’s brows cinched down. “No kid, it’s a name. Now pay attention will you? Benthix is the leader of a band of fellows like myself. Mech drivers. Mostly former Midgard, who have become all up and disillusioned with Valhalla and all her bullshit. He’s leading an army against the emperor - or so I’ve heard. We already established I was defecting, now you know where I was defecting too.”

Asmundre dipped a finger into his gruel. It wasn’t so bad, actually, but maybe that was just his hunger. “So you think this Benthix will help?”

“Yeah. Yeah I do.” Yohan sounded almost like he was trying to convince himself. “At least. He will, if you can learn to control your blood.”

He knew his blood was special, but it was still just blood. A power source. Once out of his body, his blood was no more under his influence than a bucket of water. “I could cart it around in a pail I suppose, don’t know about controlling it.”

Yohan leaned forward again, both hands raised, palms out, fingers wide. “I’m talking about blood magic,” he said, wiggling his fingers to emphasize the word magic.

“That’s a myth.”

“You’ve seen yourself what blood can do.”

“It’s a power source. That’s all.”

“Oh kid,” Yohan said, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Kid, have I got something to show you.”