"And so, my dear Cornellia—I may call you Cornellia may I not?" Loki took her hand and kissed her wrist suavely. "Um. Yeah. Sure. It's my name. I'll, um, I'll call you 'Loki' then." "Yes." He nodded gravely. "That is my name. How may I help you? Beerkeg was not very explicit in explaining your quest." "Beerkeg?" Cornellia asked, her attention diverted. "That's the travel gnome's name. He's part dwarf on his mother's side, you see." Cornellia did not, in fact, see, but she had no time to waste on irrelevancies. "I need to find a necklace with a name. Something like 'Briginagum'." "Ah! Yes, of course. Brisingamen." "You know, I can hear the capital B when you say that," she marveled. "Where do we go to find this piece of jewelry." "Why to the home of the goddess of jewelry herself." Loki smiled meaningfully. "Freya's Lair." "That sounds more like a pub or taberna or something than a home," Cornellia objected. "Well it's also called Sessrumnir, but that's so hard to say." Loki smiled in that very Loki-type way of his. "Come. We have no time to lose. You are in a hurry." Cornellia did not ask how he knew of her need for speed. She was, in fact, feeling a bit rushed and it was enough that she was getting her way without having to actually reason with people. "How will we get there? Is it close enough to walk? Or should I use my broom?" "Please!" He looked pained. "This is a no-fly zone. Didn't they tell you that at in-processing? I have obtained a pair of Seven League Boots for you from the legendary Zelda herself." "Hmmm." Cornellia looked dubiously at the so-called Seven League Boots. "I've never been certain what a league is actually." "It is variously defined according to the cultural bent of the speaker. These Seven League Boots are calibrated for 3.0 statute miles per league, or 4.8 kilometres. if you are a non-traditionalist." Cornellia blinked at the blinding brilliance of his smile. "My own boots were specially crafted for me by Jørgen Engebretsen Moe of the Ginungagap Commune and have built-in gyroscopes to control wobble, weave, and shimmy." "Oooookay. Do my boots have that?" "No," he shook his head regretfully. "But they have been stabilized to avoid the obvious consequences that would ensue were a person to have their feet separated by a twenty-one mile gap." He smiled again and somehow his teeth looked a trifle pointed this time. "Well, let's get this show on the road then." Cornellia coughed nervously. "Then come. Take my hand." Cornellia thought she saw something akin to devils dancing in his twinkling eyes as a sunbeam flashed off his decidedly feral teeth. But she was in a hurry so she took the proffered hand. It was quite the sensation as they sped over mountains and ice bergs and waterfalls and fjords and NASCAR speedways, past cities and villages and hamlets and fortified military compounds. In very short order, Loki jerked to a hard-braking stop in front of a gigantic pink structure glistening with shining ribbons of metal in gold and silver tones. "Freya's Lair, Sessrumnir," Loki intoned. "She's experiencing a sort of Malibu phase," he added apologetically. "She's gone very blonde lately and seems to feel that all this pink tourmaline faceting and rutilated quartz sets off her tan." "It's very impressive," Cornellia replied diplomatically. "Do you think she'll give me her necklace?" "Oh my no." Loki shook his head. "She's very possessive with her jewelry. But then one must consider what she's had to do to obtain most of it." He grinned wickedly. "However, I trust that I understand the Rules of the Quest. Your great need must outweigh any trifling considerations such as a regard for personal property." "Really?" Cornellia asked skeptically. "Won't Freya be a bit peeved if I just walk in there and steal her necklace?" "She might be under other circumstances. But she won't be particularly upset with you today." He smiled again. This repetitive smiling had begun to grate on Cornellia's nerves. "It is a festival of sorts. And the sharing of personal items is considered part of the celebration." "What festival? I never heard of a festival like that." "Really, my dear demi, your ignorance doesn't invalidate the commemorative event by one jot, whit or tittle." Cornellia suspected that the word "tittle" might be outside the Code of Conduct, but there was no opportunity to consult with Julilla on this matter of Taste and Fashion. Besides, Loki's use of the word "jot" reminded her that she needed to push forward at all costs. So she walked through the pink quartz entryway onto a stunningly complex pavement of pearly Apophyllite and Fluorapophyllite studded with vitreous (but still pearly) Pyroxmangite and Zektzerite. A crystal fountain emerged as if by magic from a column of purest Inderite and flowed into a basin of glassy Labyrinthite. Toward the rear of the glowing pink chamber, Cornellia spotted what appeared to be a massive jewelry chest carved from brownish-pink Cinnabar and held together by softly shining brass hardware. If ever there was a place for a magic necklace to be stored, this was it! Cornellia made a bee-line for the chest and raised it's lid. There, nested on pink satin, lay jewels and gold priceless beyond the dreams of avarice. In the very center of the tray, lay a necklace of amber and gold. "Brisingamen," Cornellia breathed reverently. "Yes," a cool but meltingly hot voice agreed. "Brisingamen, the Talisman of the Ages. The Bringer of Youth and Beauty and Love. No man who sees a woman wearing Brisingamen can resist her, nor can he resist a deep need to provide her with jewels and other costly gifts. It is the ultimate Transfer of Wealth charm." Cornellia spun to see a tall, cold-eyed female of surpassing blonde beauty and an amazingly hot body. "Unfortunately," the vision of loveliness continued, "Brisingamen was stolen from me. Probably by this reject from a bad comedy club." She nodded her head toward Loki and scowled. "Now, now, my dear Freya—" "I'm not your dear anything, Loki. And I warned you already that the next time I found you in my home I would take action." Freya turned her wrist outward and began pressing jeweled studs in her armband. "Helvetic Army issue," she explained. "The sundial is only accurate half the day, but the floating iolite needle always points north. And of course, the signal function is quite useful." She smiled with a coolness edged by volcanic heat. As you'll see shortly." A loud squawking cry announced the arrival of two great blue-black ravens. "Huginn and Muninn." Freya explained. She consulted with the birds for the space of a heartbeat then both ravens nodded to one another. Before Cornellia's horrified eyes, one of the ravens began growing in size until it almost filled the gigantic pink chamber. At that point, the roof split in half and slid apart to reveal a gray sky flecked with storm clouds. "Retractable roofs are so useful when Valkyries come to call." Freya smiled as the raven continued to grow. Suddenly, without warning it seized Cornellia in one of its claws. With the other, it spranq aloft, just clearing the roofline. It's wings unfurled and it caught an updraft. As the bird soared higher and higher, Freya's metallic laughter faded and disappeared. Far below, the other raven, also grown to gigantic size, followed with Loki caught tightly in its beak.