As far as Odin was concerned, he wanted nothing to do with the black water bog and its wicked moods and tricks. However, Laelia was convinced, thanks to Manti, that the bog and its mysteries were even more intriguing.

  They quickly found the northern trail Manti told them would lead to Mt. Grieg. As they followed the path through the bog, the scent of licorice lingered in the air. Laelia knew this came from the lavender orchid after which she was named and thought this a good omen.

  Anxious to be home, they trotted all day through the bottomlands. Soon, the bog surrendered to the darkness of night and, with it, a change in Laelia’s mood. It had been a golden day, but she was also suspicious of it. To be free again seemed too good to be true. Vague fear tugged at her as they trotted into deeper and darker woods; a hairy bog troll could be anywhere.

  With the sound of running water, they stopped along a river’s edge to quench their thirst. Resting on a flat stone that lay under willow trees, Laelia watched clouds breeze across the kind moon’s face and cast playful light upon the bog’s orchids.

  High in the sky, the crimson moon intruded and the soft moonlight soundlessly disappeared. This evil sphere, pitted with black craters, loomed closer and cast her glow of blood red down on Laelia. The mood of the night turned even darker as rain began to fall.

  Odin, with Punga on his shoulder, sat down next to Laelia. Both were fretting about the past and wondering if they had left the bog’s phantoms behind; neither was paying attention to the mood that hovered in the woods.

  Laelia shivered with uncertainty when she thought she heard the muffled snorts of a predator searching out its prey. The sounds cut through the forest and her heart like a sharp knife. Along the riverbank, tangled roots sprouted black fur and wore swollen lips. Hairy nostrils flared with the aroma of her female scent. Mouths stretched into grimaces upon hearing the sound of the little troll’s sweet voice. Gnarled fingers with curved nails opened and closed, then lengthened into crawling tendrils moving in Laelia’s direction. The rain and its resurrecting moisture had awakened sleeping oil trolls nestled in the riverbed’s rocky cavities.

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  Impatient to move on, Odin suddenly stood and spoke. The boldness of his voice startled the roots. The eldest of the trolls recognized the son of the dreaded warrior who once drove the oil trolls from the bottomlands. Clicking his tongue to warn his tribe, they instantly shriveled and sank back into the rocks’ crevices, wrinkled and useless. Angry snickers escaped from the roots while their burning eyes watched Laelia trot away with her brother.

  Passing each other in the night, the evil moon carefully kept her distance from the kind moon. Soon the crimson gave way to a golden light.

  Punga, perched on Odin’s shoulder, kept watch for pools of water with bladderworts floating on their surface. Laelia slipped a rock into her pocket; this time she would be ready for the sneaky bogie. Guided by moonlight, Odin searched for pools of sand and water hidden by tall sedges; he warned his sister their trap could swallow her whole.

  Odin was grateful to see the rain and the dwarfed black spruce finally behind him. Ahead, were groves of tall white spruce forming the boundary between his mountain and the bog. Excited by the night’s soft wind, the crown of a noble spruce, its branches swinging with the wind’s rhythm, exposed Mt. Grieg. Jagged pinnacles stood grand and faithful like proud old mountain trolls that had returned to granite. The stone trolls pointed toward the stars and provided a point of reference, guiding them up the rugged gullies.

  Ahead, Odin saw white pines stubbornly growing in crevices of granite. Soaring tall and straight, they seemed to be welcoming them home. As the pines swayed with the night wind, they released the fragrance of resin that seeped from their bark. Wind whispering down the mountainside delivered its song with the delightful scent of pine needles. When the bouquet of fragrances reached their noses, it was the grandest of perfumes. But it didn’t last for long.