Free The Sleeping Army by Francesca Simon Page A

pieces
Ready for the eagle’s snack
.
    Snot laughed. It sounded more like a rasp than a laugh.
    â€˜It’s good, no? I especially like the phrase “eagle’s snack”.’ He hesitated for a moment. ‘I write a bit of poetry myself.’
    â€˜Go on,’ said Roskva.
    â€˜I’m no Eyvind …’
    And then Snot stood up again, threw back his grizzled head, and recited:
    Eagle food
Raven food
Warriors all end up as bloody food.
When you’re a wolf meal
No point in gold then
A dead man gathers no wealth inside the wolf’s belly
.
    â€˜True,’ said Alfi.
    AAAAAARRRRGGGHHHH! thought Freya.Did every poem have to be about being eaten by eagles and wolves?
    Snot glowered. ‘You don’t need to pretend. I didn’t say I was a good poet, I said I wrote a bit of poetry. But a king did give me the gift of my own head once for that verse.’
    Alfi looked puzzled.
    â€˜He pardoned him,’ said Roskva.
    Snot smiled faintly. ‘I think I must have been happy then.’
    They were silent. Freya watched the flames and listened to the howling river. Her shoulders tensed. Any moment a giant could burst out of the darkness and trample them to death. Or a wolf could tear them to pieces. She could feel her heart banging against her chest, its quick-quick beats reverberating inside her. How could the others be so calm when they could be killed at any moment?
    â€˜Roskva, what charms did the All-Father give you?’ asked Alfi, poking the fire.
    â€˜Calming waves,’ said Roskva.
    â€˜I can tell men the names of all the Gods and all the elves one by one,’ said Alfi.
    â€˜That’ll be a help against Thjazi,’ said Roskva. ‘Maybe he’ll challenge you to a naming contest and whoever wins gets Idunn.’
    Alfi brightened.
    â€˜Do you think so?’ he said.
    â€˜NO!’ said Roskva. ‘Only stupid dwarfs fall for that one.’
    â€˜You never know what’s going to help,’ said Alfi. ‘What about you, Snot?’
    Snot spat.
    â€˜I can quench any fire,’ said Snot. ‘He could have taught me how to blunt an enemy’s sword, or how to strengthen a band of comrades so they walk unscathed from battle. But no. I’m a bloody fire-fighter.’ He spat again.
    â€˜If I see a hanged man in a tree I can make him come down and talk to me,’ said Freya. She shivered. ‘Oh wait. I didn’t get anything. The All-Father forgot the last part of the rune.’
    â€˜You got the falcon skin,’ said Roskva.
    â€˜So I did,’ said Freya. Her fingers felt in her pocket for the feather. Her eyes felt heavy.
    Alfi was also struggling to keep awake.
    â€˜We should sleep,’ said Snot. ‘I’ll take first watch.’
    Alfi wrapped himself in his cloak and stretched out by the crackling fire. ‘Oh, my aching legs,’ he murmured, pulling off his hairy leather ankle boots and rubbing his pale feet.
    There was a strangled cry.
    â€˜Roskva!’ he said. ‘Look.’
    Freya stared. There was some sort of creamy chalk on both Alfi’s feet up to his ankles. He tried to rub it off, but the mottled colour remained.
    Roskva took off her boots.
    â€˜It’s happening to me too,’ said Roskva quietly.
    Her heart pounding, Freya pulled off her own shoes and socks. There was the same mottled ivory-brown colour creeping up her feet to her ankles. She touched her toes. They felt exactly the same, but they tingled, and her skin had changed colour.
    â€˜What’s happening to us?’ whispered Freya.
    â€˜I think … I think we’re slowly turning back into ivory,’ said Roskva. ‘Bit by bit. If we haven’t restored Idunn to the Gods by the ninth night—’
    She didn’t need to complete the sentence.
    â€˜We don’t know that,’ said Freya. ‘It might be something else. It might be gone by morning.’
    â€˜It might,’ said